Angel Mine
by Radone
Summary: A relative re-working of the entire DC Universe with some aspects, such as how people with superpowers are created aka meteor freaks, from the TV show, Smallville. The focus is on Kal-El and Diana.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A battle raged across the plains and fields of Kansas. The ground was littered with the detritus of the conflict as people fled from the explosions and destruction that was consuming their towns and cities and farms. Pastures were torn apart and pitted with blackened holes while buildings were flattened to broken spars of wood, shattered stones, and twisted metal. Many of those who had been unable to flee lay still in pools of blood or moaned with injuries that would shortly take their lives. Others keened over their beloved dead, clutching the hands of their wives and husbands and children, having been unable to protect them from the violence that had taken their lives.

Kansas was desolated, but it had not been a battle between two armies that had brought such grievous woe to the state and nation. Instead, it was a conflict between a man who was a near demi-god, a bold, red iconic 'S' on a field of yellow emblazoned on his chest, the symbol of his House, and a red cape, torn and frayed now. He was big man, this so-called hero, but he was dwarfed by his opponent, a creature from Humanity's grimmest fears. Grey-skinned, he was an ivory-spiked demon with pitiless malice and cruelty burning in his red eyes, bred as an engine of murder and genocide.

Both cocked a fist, rearing back and pausing infinitesimally at the apex of their swings. They released their punches. Air, superheated by the speed of their blurring arms, concussed outward, bending stalks of wheat and lifting rubble into the air. But that was nothing compared to the explosive shockwave that thundered in a discharge of heat and sound and fury when their fists connected each others faces.

The fields surrounding them were instantly flattened and burnt. The graveled rubble was lifted higher and blasted to sand, exploding outward, leaving a crater, a perfect circle over a half-mile in radius and cleared of everything. A moonscape had been wrought with ashes floating like grey snow, an incongruent reminder of winter on this hot summer day.

At the heart of it, the two beings, slumped against one another, leaned over each other like two old friends , too weary to continue on. Slowly, they slid down and apart. It was over and both were dead.

The shockwave of their last exchange rumbled on, rattling and shattering windows hundreds of miles away, but closer by, a grief-stricken "NO!" could be heard. It was a cry echoed by the few other souls who had been able to bear witness. For these others, though, they did not mourn the death of the two titans who had wrought such devastation. Their sorrow was closer to home, and they cried for the loss of loved ones. They wept and bitterly railed at the Faustian bargain that had brought such 'superheroes' to their world at the cost of such villains. The price had been too high.

There was one other, though, who had watched the raging battle with a dim satisfaction. True happiness was impossible for one such as he, and contentment was the closest he allowed himself to experience true joy. He was a soulless evil, a being deemed by many to be a God, and he had earned his name the hard way, with countless cruel deaths and an iron will forged for domination. He was Darkseid. And throughout the Net of Creation, that final punch that had destroyed so much, would end up destroying so much more. For in _this_ realm, this Darkseid chuckled when the two had fallen, seeing something no other could. It took him many millennia, but in the end, he achieved his aims and became Finality, snuffing out all light and life throughout all the worlds and universes of Creation until all that was left was oblivion.

In the darkness, after he had unleashed his final solution upon the maddeningly chaotic question of life, Darkseid rotted away, dissoluted by his inability to create, and the one Being, standing outside of Creation and witness to its destruction, wept.

He wept, not for the ending of all life but because Heaven was empty of all the souls who should have resided there, and yet did not.

The Being thought long and hard about what had happened. Free will by necessity would allow many like Darkseid to rise. That was the price of His greatest gift. Without freedom, the life He created would simply be a gross and fleshly shell, and not the work of art of which the Seraphim sang.

He pondered what to do. The cross had not been enough. He gathered together all the lost souls, and when the Gupf was full once more, He alighted on a decision: this time there would be but one Universe.

He spoke: "Let there be light." And there was light, and it was good…

"It's about friendship," Diana said. She rapped the table and a furrow of annoyance marred the smooth perfection of her proud forehead. "Are you even listening to me, Kal?"

Kal-El had been aimlessly moving his food around on his plate, and he looked up at her. He was struck again by her beauty, a moment of surprised recognition that seemed to occur every time he looked at her.

Most men would have considered themselves lucky to have been seated across from Diana, a beautiful woman by any standard. Legend had it that the few remaining old Gods had fashioned her from the clay of Themiscyara, the mystical home of the Amazons, breathing life into their last creation and making her as perfect as possible. They had succeeded. Despite being taller than most men, she moved with the unconscious grace of a dancer. She was athletic and slim and toned, but only a blind man would fail to notice her feminine curves. Her naturally wavy ebony hair tumbled down over her shoulders and back, and her face, sculpted with high cheeks and full, rose-colored lips, would have put fair Helen to shame. Kal stared at her, entranced as always, looking into her startling blue eyes, made vivid by her olive complexion, as she gazed back at him with unmasked intelligence and curiosity.

Yes, most men would have considered themselves lucky, but then most men weren't Kal-El, or as the world knew him, Superman. He was a big man, standing a full hand taller than Diana's six feet; muscular without being bulky, he somehow seemed lean and even when motionless, he conveyed the sense of coiled explosive movement, fierce and fluid and with a grace to match hers. His dark hair was pulled back into a short ponytail – all but the annoying cowlick that rebelliously flopped over his forehead, and which Diana continuously brushed aside. His eyes, a cerulean blue, almost gemlike and equally as intelligent as hers, sparkled with amusement.

"I'm listening, Di, but I can't help but think about another talk I once had about friendship with someone who I once thought of as a brother."

"Really? Who?"

The smile left his face. "It was a long time ago," he said. His lips pursed into a frown. "A lifetime."

She reached out and took one of his hands in both of hers. Her voice, a confident contralto, was warm and mellow and throbbed with sorrow. "Bruce won't be that way," she said. "Not like Lex. Bruce is a good man."

Kal's lips formed a smirk. "He is a good man," he agreed. "It's just that…I've been on leave from the League and from work for the past year, and I'm still trying to get used to all the changes that have happened. Like the fact that Bruce has you."

Diana suddenly pulled away from him, letting go of his hand and frowning. "And you have Lois," she said.

"I have Lois," Kal-El replied. Once, just a few years ago, saying that would have brought him great joy. It still did, but there was also a feeling of unfulfilled loss associated with it. Lois was a wonderful person. She was bright and funny and brave, and they shared a deep and rich history. Sometimes, though, it didn't seem like that was enough anymore. He glanced at Diana, who was still frowning. One of the reasons for that was seated across the table from him: Diana, the Princess of Themiscyara. The other was the man she was dating: Bruce Wayne.

Kal-El, though he had a Nietzchian name and bore the mythical title 'The Last Son of Krypton', was at heart, a farmer, and his father, Jonathon, had taught him was that farmers don't get too proud. Romancing a Princess, much less an immortal Princess, beloved of the Gods would definitely count as being overly proud. She was far, far above his station, but his feelings for her, always hidden, were undeniable.

Bruce had always been more bold than he, he mused. The heir to a billionaire fortune, apparently, he had not hesitated once Kal-El had stepped aside, and Diana had allowed herself to become available.

Kal forced a smile on his face, one that didn't touch his eyes. "Did I ever tell you about that talk?"

"Which one? With Lex?"

"Yes."

She shook her head 'no'.

"It was when I was a teenager, back in Smallville." He smiled in fond remembrance, this time his eyes warming. "Lex and I met two men, two of the Five Hundred, who, when they had been young, had been the best of friends." He shrugged. "Things went sour for them, and they had a falling out. Eventually, one killed the other, and Lex and I got caught in the crossfire." He paused again, thinking back on the events of that night. "After the murder, Lex, stopped by the barn to make sure I was alright."

Diana smiled gently. "Let me guess. You were up in the loft looking at the stars." Her eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. "Or were you looking at Lana?"

Kal-El grinned sheepishly. "Trust you to know all my secrets," he said.

Diana sniffed. "That is what best friends are best at, you know?"

"Well, anyway, I asked Lex if he thought he and I could ever become enemies like that." He smiled wryly. "Even now, all these years later, I remember exactly what he said. He told me, '_No, Clark, I think history will describe our friendship as legendary_'. The irony of those words never ceases to amaze." A bitter grimace crossed his face and he didn't bother to mask his frustration and sadness.

It was one of the things Diana loved about him: how he was incapable of true falsehood. Yes, he lied, and he did so quite regularly, but not to her. Never to her. With her, for whatever reason, he didn't bother hiding his feelings, or at least didn't do so very often. He allowed her to see him as vulnerable and insecure, something she suspected he greatly needed given how everyone else treated him. His openness with her was something she cherished, just as his honesty and underlying decency was something she respected and admired.

So why hadn't it worked out between them? His explanations of her being too high above his station rang false. He claimed that he was Clark Kent, a simple farmboy, and while that was true, he was also Kal-El, the Last Son of Krypton as well as Superman, a hero beloved by almost all and to whom presidents and prime ministers and kings and world leaders all listened: he was too important to ignore. No, he was much more complex than he let on.

So, why hadn't he ever sought her out the way he had Lois?

When they had first met, she'd felt certain that the Gods must have intended for them to be together. In her youthful naiveté, she had assumed that since they were so well-matched in their gifts and skills, they must be destined for each other. Time and experience had brought her wisdom, and she now realized how foolish and simple that was. Similarity of power wasn't enough of a foundation on which to build a true relationship. Even their similar ambitions of bringing hope and peace and justice to the world weren't enough. After all, she shared that same desire with the other members of the Justice League.

They had always had something special, and once she would have assumed that it would have been the basis for something…more? Now, though, she didn't think that would ever be the case. He never saw her that way. Whatever existed between the two of them was an indefinable deepness. She knew they worked well together, slipping into their roles like two pieces of a puzzle. His common touch and compassion and willingness to offer forgiveness were balanced by her ability to see the bigger picture and her warrior's ethos. Even now, it was generally to one another that they shared their worries and fears and angst. They trusted each other in a way they didn't trust anyone else.

Even Lois had only recently been told that Clark Kent was also Superman.

So, why not her? Why had Kal always looked at as a trusted friend and never as a woman? Why had he chosen someone else? Despite her Gods-granted beauty, she was woman enough to feel doubt about her own worth in the matter.

"Hello, Clark. Hello, Diana," a deep, husky voice said. Bruce Wayne, the Batman, glided toward them on silent feet.

Of course, his feet weren't silent to Kal-El. He had heard him getting off the elevator, and before that, he'd heard his heartbeat as he left the monitor station at the center of the Watchtower, the Justice League's space station hanging in geosynchronous orbit above the Earth.

_The heart_, Kal-El mused. _It is as unique as fingerprints_. He'd long ago memorized the heartbeats of all those he loved as well as those most dangerous to him. Bruce existed in both categories.

Diana smiled and allowed Bruce to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. She had been seeing Bruce on a romantic basis for several months now. It had taken her that long, five years since the formation of the Justice League, to understand that life should be lived fully and experienced as deeply as possible. The strangely intense intimate relationship she had with Kal-El, didn't preclude relationships with other men, and so, she was with Bruce, a man she'd grown to trust completely.

Still, even now, when she and Bruce kissed, desire would only rarely rise, and more often than not, there was a sense of a missing passion, a holding back on both their parts. And far too frequently than she was comfortable to admit to anyone, it was another she imagined…she quickly cut off that train of thought. "Kal was just telling me a story from when he lived in Smallville."

"Was it one about Lex Luthor or Lana Lang?" Bruce asked.

Kal-El smiled, unsurprised at his friend's deductive reasoning. "Because if it's Smallville, it has to be Lex or Lana related, right?"

Bruce smiled briefly. "So, you've noticed that habit of yours."

"Or sometimes it's Chloe," Diana said, smiling as well. "I like her. She's a lovely person."

"I like her, too," Kal said. "I'm glad she and Pete are doing fine after all the trouble they went through being friends with me."

"Being at the epicenter of the birth of the Five Hundred, like you were in Smallville, couldn't have been easy on a couple of kids like them," Bruce said. "Too bad, you couldn't have come to Earth without all that green kryptonite screwing up all those people."

"Well, I'm glad he came," Diana said, coming to Kal's defense. "Who else would fly shotgun with me if he hadn't?"

"Hal could," Kal answered.

"So could J'onn or Shayera," Bruce added.

"It's not the same," Diana disagreed. "They all can fly with me, but Kal was my first. That means something."

Kal coughed delicately in his hand. "Uh, Diana, in the future, you may not want to discuss longing for your 'first' in front of your boyfriend like that. Those kind of things have been known to cause jealous feelings." At Diana's startled and horrified gasp, Kal stood up. "I think I'll leave you too alone now," he said chuckling softly.

Bruce graced him with a flat glare, but his lips twitched into a half-smile. "See what you've done, Clark? How's a normal man supposed to compete with someone like you."

Clark laughed, not sure how serious Bruce was. "You're many things, Bruce, but a normal man isn't one of them."

As he left, he could hear Diana's earnest pleas and Bruce's quiet words of understanding. They made a good couple, Clark thought. Bruce could give Diana everything that she was probably used to as a princess. A lot more than he could considering his reporter's salary at the Daily Planet. She was worthy of so much more than Clark could offer.

Of course, if it was money that Clark wanted, than he could have corrected that very easily. If instead of just wearing his simple blue Kryptonian armor, he took to wearing a cape as well, where various companies could place ads, he'd be rolling in dough. The head of Nike had once offered him a nearly nine figure contract to replace the 'S' on his chest with a 'Swoosh'.

Some 'heroes' had succumbed to that kind of marketing pressure, like the Flash, who had a registered trademark as the "Fastest Man in the Universe"® and hawked anything and everything. He shook his head at the inanity of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Kal-El, Clark Kent, Superman left the Watchtower. He drifted in space, alone, as he watched the sun rise over India. He gazed out over the beautiful blue-green orb that was Earth, viewing her in a way that few others were privileged to see. He was of Krypton, born on that cold planet and bred from an even colder race, but this world, so warm and full of vital life, full of so much promise and potential, this was home. This was his heart, and he loved it.

He flew downward, quickly entering the thermosphere. His suit was soon hot enough to glow, and heat waves began to billow off of him like an invisible cape. Faster. He pressed on building up speed as he let gravity work its will. He grinned and shouted with joy as he felt the air beat against him as he thundered past the sound barrier. He tucked his arms tight, causing him to spiral. Faster and faster, he spun, like a drill. He snapped his arms out, stopping his rotation as he steadied his descent, quickly cutting through mesosphere and stratosphere, straight into the trophosphere. He blazed across the night skies of Europe like a rare blue meteor. He glowed as he raced across the North Atlantic at a height of five hundred feet, a wake of disturbed water and a thin line of steam marking his passage.

Of all the gifts he had been granted, this was the one he loved the most: flight.

He looked ahead, sensing the approach of North America a few hundred miles away. He couldn't fly this low any longer. He rose, shooting up, spiraling to over two hundred fifty thousand feet, up into the mesosphere, the coldest layer of the atmosphere, bleeding off speed. He hung there for an eternal second, enjoying the sense of weightlessness before he let himself freefall, gliding west. At two hundred thousand feet, he leveled off again, and once more broke the sound barrier.

A vapor cone, a shock collar formed around his waist and thighs. He'd once wondered about that. A Prandtl-Glauert singularity was what it was called. He smiled again. The math, once he understood it, was beautiful in its own right, but experiencing it directly was something altogether different: feeling the compressed air in front of him and the sudden drop in pressure at his waist, and the rise again at his feet. It was like being in a tight, but erratic vise, but that was fine. He could take that and then some.

He grinned and laughed as he exploded forward. He went transonic, still wearing the shock collar, sensing it flutter behind him like a comet's tail. Quickly, he was over Mach 10, arriving over Metropolis, Kansas fifteen minutes later.

He came to a sudden stop and let the air blow past him in a long curtain of wind. He floated over the city, hands held to his side, eyes closed, listening. So much pain and sorrow. So much grief and need. What could one man, even a Superman do in the face of such anguish?

Bruce had called this his 'Jesus Christ Pose'. The thought earned a snort of derision. He wasn't the son of God. Far from it. He was a simple farmer, and although there were some poor deluded fools who had raised altars to him, he knew he was unworthy of that kind of fawning admiration and worship.

The truth was that being a so-called superhero was the easiest of jobs. He and his fellow Justice Leaguers protected Humanity as best they could, even at the possible cost of their lives. Was that brave? Yes, but the better question was this: was it unique? After all, there were many soldiers and firefighters and police officers who faced their death every day, but still strapped on their uniforms the next morning and kept going, never giving up. So, why were metahumans, superheroes, whatever one wished to call them special? Because of their powers? Was that what defined a hero?

Clark didn't think so. Exerting power was easy. Dying even easier. It was living that was hard. Facing that insurmountable tidal wave of filth and shit and horror that existed in all parts of the world; draining that cesspool with a spoon and a bright and hopeful smile. That was bravery. That was heroic. Slowly, through the work of ages, and by the hands that were willing to carry any burden, that swamp was drying and Humanity stood a chance of basking in the sun.

Clark's job was simple: he just had to protect the true heroes in the world so that they could complete their job.

He'd once read _Fearfully and Wonderfully Made_, a book leant to him by his father. The author attempted to explain how all people have a special place in the Body of Christ. The point was to understand that every part of the Body was equally important. Some folk are meant to be workers and doers like the hands; others are meant to be supporters, like the lungs and the heart; and others the mind, guiding the work where it was most needed. Clark wasn't sure where he fit into that kind of scheme, but he knew he wasn't one of the doers, not like the author, Dr. Paul Brand, a doctor who had forsaken wealth and acclamation for service to poorest and most destitute. He had served lepers in India, bringing healing to the most unwanted, and he had done so with unstinting complaint for decades. Somehow he had also found the time to raise a family of five children, all of whom had gone on to become good and loving people.

Reading that book had been humbling and it had touched a chord within his soul. It was so easy to be seduced by the glory of being a superhero. True heroism consisted of something different than simply rescuing lives.

Clark wasn't a Christian, though – how could he be? Jesus had died on the cross for Humanity's sake, and Clark was Kryptonian. Still, the few times his parents, Jonathon and Martha Kent had taken him to church, the message that had resonated most clearly within him was the idea of service. The idea of a loving God abasing himself in servitude to His fallen creations appealed to him. Ultimately, that was how Clark envisioned himself: a servant, meant to show Humanity the power of humility.

After all, if he, a man with Godlike gifts could humble himself, so could anyone else.

Now, getting others to listen to him was the challenge. When people saw him, they saw his unbridled power. How could they know the truth?

He sighed. Taking the long way home and reminiscing as he had been…he was late. Lois would not be pleased.

He streaked down, angling toward Smallville. He scanned the ground continuously as he descended not wanting to be spotted as he had a few times when he'd gone straight to his apartment in Metropolis as Superman. As busy as that city was, no matter the time of day, there had always been someone out and about who had witnessed his movements. Some clever thinking about interviewing Superman had answered those questions, but now, he simply avoided the possibility by landing somewhere remote, where no one would be around to see him. Smallville, specifically his parents' farm was perfect for that.

He landed, near the barn and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and flannel shirt before heading to Metropolis by foot, making the sixty mile journey in under ten minutes.

It was a little past nine when he unlocked the door to Lois' apartment. She was curled up on the couch reading a book.

"I left some food in the oven, Clark," she said, turning around and flashing him a smile. She took in his guilty expression and laughed. "What? You thought I'd be mad at you being late? Again."

"It has been a pretty bad habit recently," Clark said, sounding sheepish and apologetic at the same time.

Lois stood up and came to him. Standing a shade under five and half feet tall, Lois was slender, but strong and fit. She had to be given some of the work she did. Sure, she'd been saved by Superman more times than she cared to think about, but she'd also had to occasionally kick ass and take names on her own. The criminals and thugs that she confronted just found it hard to believe that such a slight woman could lay them out. Had they known her better, they wouldn't have taken her so lightly. She was General Sam Lane's oldest daughter, and her father had made sure that she could handle herself in any situation, armed or unarmed. Even if that hadn't been the case, she had never been a shrinking violet. She'd been willing to take on all comers and all challenges while growing up, becoming a tough young woman who did what she thought was right and let the chips fall where they may. While she wasn't classically beautiful, she was pretty, and any deficiencies in her appearance were made up by her forceful personality. It had been her undeniable bravery and unwavering desire to shine a beacon of light in the hidden and dark and ugly places in the world of the powerful that had first attracted Clark's attention. That and her willingness to speak her mind and not sugarcoat hard truths had enchanted Clark. He appreciated that kind of honesty given how dishonest he had to be sometimes.

"You're never late when I need you, Clark," she said with a gentle smile. "That's what I always remember."

Clark smiled back and stepped closer, taking her hands in his as he squeezed them gently. He took extra care when touching her. Humans were so fragile, and she was more precious than most. "How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?"

"Just one more supergift for the ultimate superhero, I guess," Lois said, a twinkle in her eyes as she reached up and clasped her hands around his neck.

He bent down to kiss her, almost not feeling the softness of her lips against his own. He wanted to press harder, feel the kiss more strongly, but he couldn't. It would snap her teeth and break her jaw. He stepped out her embrace. "I'm starving," he announced.

"Why didn't you eat up at the Watchtower?"

"Wally ate most of the good stuff. All that was left was some three day old chicken salad."

Lois smiled. "Lucky for you, I ordered a pizza."

"You are the best."

"I know," Lois replied. "Go eat. I want to talk to you about something afterward."

Clark glanced at her. "Is it serious?"

"Eat first; then we'll talk."

Clark pulled out the pizza, not bothering with a hotpad. Simple heat like that couldn't hurt him. He wolfed the food down, and a few seconds later was wiping his hands and lips clean. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Lois looked at him in astonishment. "I'll never get used to you doing things like that," she said, shaking her head. She reached out and took his hand. "Come with me." She guided him to the couch, where they sat. "I've been offered a new position," she said, looking him in the eyes.

"What kind of new position?" Clark asked. "At the Planet?"

Lois' lips tightened and she took a deep breath. Clark heard her heart start beating more rapidly and saw her temperature rise slightly. She had news, and it wouldn't make him happy. "No. It's in New York," she said. "I've been offered the nightly news anchor desk for ABS."

Clark looked at her, confused. "I thought you loved being a beat reporter," he said.

"I do," Lois said. "I'm not going to just be a newsreader," she explained. "I won't just be some pretty face smiling vacantly. I'll still do investigative work, but now I'll have a much bigger budget and staff to help with some of the really challenging work I've always wanted to tackle. I'll have the resources to do stories I couldn't even dream of doing right now. With what I'll have available, there's no place the cockroaches will be able to hide." Her eyes shone with excitement.

Clark smiled, happy for her. "When do you have to let them know your decision?"

"After my boyfriend tells me that it's ok." Her hands twisted in her lap, and she looked down. "We won't see each other as much," she said, her voice small.

"Lois, look at me," Clark said, gently lifting her chin and forcing her to look him in the eyes. She was nervous and unhappy. Lois had always been a much better reporter than he. It wasn't a surprise that another news organization would want to scoop up someone with her talents. In some ways this was a dream job for her, and there was no way he would allow her give it up just for him. "We won't see each other at work so much, but that doesn't mean we can't see each other." He smiled. "I'm Superman, remember? I can be in New York before you even blink if I wanted to."

She still looked unhappy. "It won't be the same," she said, sounding despondent. "We're both going to be so busy. And you, after just getting back from that sabbatical, and now back to working as a reporter, a superhero, a humanitarian, and everything else. It seems like the only time I see you is at work or when we're working on a story together. What's it going to be like now?"

"We'll work it out," he said, infusing a confidence into his voice that he didn't necessarily feel. This wouldn't be a long distance relationship, not with his ability to be with her in five minutes or less, but it would be a strain given how busy he was, and how much busier she was likely to be. This had to be Lois' choice, though. She'd always been ambitious, and he wouldn't stand in the way of what she wanted.

Even if it that meant they couldn't be together.

"Thank you, Clark," she said as she snuggled against him. "Smallville, how did I get so lucky?"

He smiled into her hair. "You've always made your own luck," he answered.

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, a serious expression in her face. "Come to bed with me," she said. "I've got a tiny piece of kryptonite under the bed. You won't be able to hurt me."

"I can't."

Lois frowned. "Clark, we've been dating for almost two years and you've barely ever touched me. You were gone so much during the past year, and since you've been back, we've never even slept in the same bed. It's been months, Clark. Why won't you sleep with me?" She leaned away from him, a hurt expression on her face. "Is it me? Am I not pretty enough for you?"

"Oh, Lois, no," Clark said, instantly contrite. He leaned close to her, kissing her gently on the lips. "You're beautiful, Lois. It's not you, it's me."

"What about you," Lois said, still sounding suspicious. She wasn't mollified.

Clark sighed and looked away. "I can't touch you like that because kryptonite doesn't affect me anymore."

"What! Since when?"

"Since about six months ago," Clark answered. He took both her hands and stared earnestly in her eyes. "It was my only weakness and everyone knew it. The last time I went up against Metallo, I nearly died. If it hadn't been for Lantern and Diana, I would have. Lex Luthor still keeps his kryptonite ring, just so I can't get near him, even though it almost killed him with cancer. Even Batman has one," he said, a bitter tone in his voice. "Everyone knows how to kill me, and they get closer to success each time they try." He gazed at her pleadingly. "I couldn't let that go on," he said. "So, after that battle with Metallo, I went to the Fortress. The AI and I searched and scanned for weeks trying to figure out why I reacted to kryptonite the way I did." He shrugged. "I found the reason, and fixed it."

"And now you truly are invulnerable," Lois said, sounding strangely sad. "Are you sure it's safe for any one man to be so unstoppable?"

Clark sighed again. "No. I'm not sure," he answered. "But at the time, it seemed like a good idea."

"And when you were planning all this, did you ever think what else it might mean for you? For us?" Lois asked, her eyes welling with tears.

Clark paused, a pregnant silence that answered her question without words. She needed to hear him say the words, though. "Yes."

Lois smiled, wintry and wan. "And now we can never be together. Make love ever again," she said. "You've forced celibacy on us both."

"Would you prefer me dead?"

"I would prefer you asked my opinion first," she shouted. "How could you do something like that without at least telling me what you had in mind!"

"I'm sorry, Lois," Clark said, simply.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Sorry doesn't begin to justify what you did," Lois said, anger crackling in her voice. "Is this part of your martyrdom complex? You give and give and give until there's nothing left for yourself, Clark. Why did you have to give this up, too?" she entreated.

Clark hung his head. "If it helps, at least you know I can never be with anyone else," he said, a feeble smile hanging on his face.

"It doesn't help," Lois said. A heavy quiet hung between them, and after a moment, the anger seemed to suddenly leach out of her. She looked deflated, and she sagged against the soft cushions of the couch. "Boy, can I pick them."

Clark felt the first stirrings of annoyance seep over his guilt. "I can't undo what I've done, Lois. If you want to be with someone else, someone who you can have a full relationship with, I won't stop you."

"Do you want me to?" she asked in amazement.

"Do what makes you happy, Lois."

She sighed and rubbed a weary hand across her face. "I'm tired, Clark, and this is a lot to take in. I don't want to say something I'm going to regret." She stood. "I'm going to bed." She paused at the threshold to her bedroom. "You're wrong, you know?"

He looked up. "About what?"

"You can still be with someone else, even now."

He stared at her blankly, but the answer came to him an instant before she answered his unspoken question. "Diana," she said. "Goodnight, Clark. See yourself out?"

"Sure," Clark said, standing. "See you at work." He walked to her and gave her a quick kiss. She turned away, so instead of kissing her lips, he kissed her cheek.

_What a great day it had been_, he thought sourly as he headed home, getting to his apartment a few seconds later.

He turned on the TV. A documentary on the Five Hundred was on. Clark listened with only half an ear, while his mind remembered the details the documentarian left out or got wrong. The Five Hundred were the result of Clark's arrival to Earth. He didn't feel so guilty about it anymore, but that was the unknown truth of the matter.

He'd been placed within his spaceship by his parents, Jor-El and Lara, just before Krypton's destruction. After the red star the planet orbited went supernova, blasting Krypton to less than rubble, the mix of the sun's elements and the planet's core had created the various blends of kryptonite. Some of it ended up getting sucked up into his ship's wormhole and coming with him to Earth.

Earth, specifically North America, had been showered with the meteors that had travelled with baby Kal-El. Most who came in contact with the kryptonite died within a year, usually of an extremely aggressive cancer. A few, though, a very rare few lived. But those people did not escape unmarked. They were changed. They were people suddenly endowed with powers that a generation earlier would have been the stuff of science fiction or fantasy. Most of them led lives of quiet anonymity since the talents they suddenly had didn't lend themselves to any particular skill or task. After all, what real use was it to be able to glow or turn into a puddle or a gerbil? Others, though, had been given much greater powers. Those were the ones the world began to call supervillains, or their antithesis, superheroes: the Five Hundred.

Luckily, their powers weren't easily passed on to their children, so their numbers were fairly stable.

Clark grew tired of the narrator's breathless prose. The Five Hundred were feared, admired, reviled, and worshipped. How many of them would wish they were none of those things?

He changed the channel. Bill Matthews was interviewing Lex Luthor on CMN. With a grimace of disgust, Clark turned off the TV and went to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Work the next morning was strained. The entire news bureau could feel it as a seething undercurrent whenever he and Lois spoke to one another. Jimmy, bless his heart, tried to find a way to bridge the gap, but a few snarls from Lois convinced him to go elsewhere.

Lois still hadn't forgiven him yet. It wasn't so much that he'd done what he had; it was that he hadn't talked it over with him. Truth was, he hadn't talked it over with anyone. Keeping secrets. He'd always been good at that, and since becoming friends with Bruce and learning how important it was to keep an ace up your sleeve, he'd gotten even better.

He made a few calls to some sources for the article he was working on and did some research in the Planet's archives before lunch rolled around. He had an appointment to keep.

"Your monthly date?" Lois asked, eyebrows arched.

"I wouldn't call it a date."

"C'mon, Clark. The two of you may not see it, but everyone else does. It's a date."

I'm going to be late," Clark said, glancing at his watch.

"Really, Clark? Late?" Lois stepped up to him, and tugged the lapels of his overly large jacket until he lowered his head. She kissed him, a soft lingering caress that left him weak-kneed for more. Everything was alright. She'd forgiven him. "You already know, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I understand why you did what you did," she said, her hand stroking his chest as she shook her head sadly. "I'm so sorry for all that you've had to give up, Clark."

He smiled, thin-lipped and forced. "We'll survive it," he said, bending to kiss her forehead. "I need to hear you say it."

"I forgive you. And I'll always love you."

"I love you, too, Lois."

She hugged him, a hard squeeze. "Do you even feel my embrace?

Clark smiled and kissed the top of her head. "It's like a butterfly's touching me."

Lois leaned back. "Maybe I'll just have to find me some kryptonite and get super strong," she said with a smile.

"Sheer genius, Lois," he said, laughing. "Except for the whole dying of cancer bit."

"A girl can dream," she said. She pulled his arm around so she could see his watch. "You're going to be late."

"I guess I better get going, then."

"For your 'not a date'."

"Exactly."

"Love you, Clark."

"Love you, too, Lois."

Clark dashed off for his 'not a date'.

"Over here, Clark," his date called, waving when Clark arrived at the restaurant. Clark had already scanned the place from a few miles away. No kryptonite – not that it mattered anymore – and no sneaky looking magician types. "You arrived just in time, like always, brother," Lex Luthor said, glancing up from the menu. He smiled his most charming and winning smile.

Clark found himself smiling back. Lex stood and the two hugged. "How's business, Lex?"

Lex grinned. "You should know as well as I since you and your girlfriend keep trying to put me out of business."

"Shady deals, bribery, unethical research, possible murder. I'd say someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Lex's eyes twinkled. "And who better to try to bring the prodigal son back to the straight and narrow than his uprighteous brother. Or is it self-righteous."

"It's only self-righteous if I didn't want you to be a better man than you are. I take no joy in elucidating your deficiencies."

"Elucidating my deficiencies, is it? Nice phrasing."

Clark shrugged, self-deprecatingly. "I am a writer, Lex. I'm supposed to have a way with words."

Lex and he had been as close as brothers back in Smallville. Lex had literally blown into town, the unwanted son of the most hated man who had ever walked Smallville's streets, the late and unlamented Lionel Luthor. He had Clark, outsiders both, had hit it off immediately, growing close.

Lex had changed as time passed. The innocence, or at least desire to be a better man than his father, faded and eventually died under the furnace of Lionel Luthor's ruthless ambition and machiavellian love. In the end, the son became the father. Lex lost all that he once loved and held to be good, but what did that matter? He was wealthy and famous and powerful, but most importantly, he was feared. Better to be feared than loved. It was only natural that he and Clark drifted apart. For a number of years they were bitter enemies, unable to speak to each other without anger and loathing crackling between them. Of course, it was for Superman that Lex held his deepest hate, although he did not know that Clark Kent and Superman were one and the same.

Megalomania was not Lex's primary motivation, though.

"_Desire is what drives me, Clark," he'd once said. "Desire to know my purpose in the world. Am meant to rule? That seems to be where all my talents lay; the manipulation of people."_

"_Or maybe you're meant to be a guide. The hidden hand that helps the world heal and brings us all closer together."_

_Lex had laughed. "That would be a rich irony, wouldn't it?"_

A few years back, when Lex had nearly died of kryptonite-induced cancer, it had been Superman who had donated his blood to help Lex overcome the cancer. Why had Clark done it? Of course he'd thought long and hard about it, but even now, he wasn't sure how it was that he came to make the choice that he had. Had it been the right one? Even now, he wasn't sure. What may have tripped him toward saving Lex was a memory from when he had once had to enter Lex's mind. Within that twisted vault, he had met a young Lex, a good and decent boy, still struggling to survive within the conscience of his depraved adult self. Despite all the ugliness and fury that had occurred between them, Clark couldn't let him die like that. Not without a hope of redemption.

The experience seemed to have mellowed Lex out. He was probably still an untrustworthy snake, but a few months after recovering, he had called Clark, out of the blue, asking him to have lunch with him. That was three years ago, and the two of them still made sure to have lunch or dinner once a month, even on Clark's sabbatical. Just the two of them.

"So how is that acid-tongued girlfriend of yours?" Lex asked.

"Still acid-tongued," Clark said, pretending to look over the lunch specials. He had already speed read the menu in a blink of Lex's eyes, but it was important to keep up appearances. He glanced up and smiled. "She says 'kick him in the nuts for me' by the way."

"She did not," Lex said, laughing. "She wants to humiliate me, not just cause me pain."

Clark grinned. "How do you know she doesn't want both?"

Lex looked at him askance. "Did she really say that?"

Clark laughed. "No, but it would have been funny if she had."

"But not so funny if you'd carried out her orders."

"Orders?"

Lex made a whipping motion and sound, grinning evilly while he did it.

Clark rolled his eyes. "Do you know what you want yet?"

Lex laughed. "I've already ordered. For both of us." Clark's looked at him in surprise. "For some reason, you've gone on a Thai kick, so I ordered Drunken Noodles for you. Extra hot."

Clark smiled sourly. "Everyone seems to think they know me so well," he muttered. He looked out at the window and people watched for a moment before turning back to face Lex. "What's going on between us, Lex? Why are we having lunch every month like we're old friends?"

"We are old friends, Clark," Lex said, his smile slipping. "You're the only friend I've got."

"We weren't friends at all for a very long time," Clark reminded him. "We hated each other, in fact."

"Does it have to be that way forever?" Lex asked. "There was a time when you believed that I'd make it." He glanced down, picking at the paper napkin on which his drink was resting before looking back up. "Have you lost faith in me, then?"

"If I had, I wouldn't be here right now."

Lex smiled, almost a grimace. "Good old Clark. Always wanting to see the bright side of everyone."

"And do you have a bright side still?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here right now."

Clark tipped his head in acknowledgement. "You still haven't answered my question," Clark said. "What's all this about?"

"That is the million dollar question, isn't it?"

"In your case, billion."

Lex paused, a serious and oddly vulnerable expression stealing across his face. He picked at this napkin again. "Control. Power. They're delicious drugs, Clark. For awhile that's all I thought I needed. Maybe they still are, but now I'm not so sure. I'm always hungry for more and more. What's the point of it all?" He glanced at Clark. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not letting go of what I have. I couldn't even if I wanted to, and believe me, I don't. Luthorcorp is mine, and what I've built is a strong and powerful organization. I won't give it up." He paused and stared out the window. "But, I need to know what to do with it. Am I supposed to just make it bigger and bigger? More powerful? There has to be more than that, doesn't there?" He smirked. "The happiest I've ever been was when you and your family were a part of my life. It was the only clean time I can remember having, and I had so much less than I do now." He looked Clark in the eye. "When Superman saved my life, I was shocked by what he did. He's such an arrogant prick. So holier than thou." He smirked, a grimace of distaste. "A lot like you, actually except for the fucking superpowers. I wanted to believe he saved me just to prove that he was better than me. Show me up again, only morally this time, and have all his stupid sycophants eating out of the palm of his hand. He gets off on all that adulation, you know."

"And that's why he saved you? Because he's a smug prick who wanted to rub your nose in the fact that he's a better man than you?"

Lex smiled. "I wanted to believe that. I would have loved to believe that. It would have been made things so much simpler. So in character for him," he said. "His eyes gave him away, though."

"What do you mean?"

"His eyes. They sent a different message."

"What was it?" Clark asked.

"It was love."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Diana and Wally West, the World's Fastest Man®, had monitor duty at the Watchtower. Wally glanced over at Wonder Woman. He sometimes had trouble believing that a woman that beautiful was real. Did she even have a flaw? She never even had bad breath or BO. She was beautiful, more physically perfect than any woman Wally had ever seen. Only problem was…she was just so damn serious all the time. Lighten up, sweetheart. With her, it was all work, work, work, 24-7. All work and no play made the princess a dull hottie. No wonder she was with Bats instead of Supes. As serious as Bats was, Diana was a perfect fit for him. In fact, Wally was pretty sure that Batman was physically incapable of having fun. Sure, he was all playboy Bruce Wayne, partying with supermodels and all that, but that was just an act. The laughter never reached his soul. Bruce Wayne was more of a costume than the batsuit when it was all said and done.

Now Supes, he was fun. Wally loved being around the big guy. He was so powerful, but even-keeled about it. Even though he could have run his baby, the League, however he wanted, he always made sure to let everyone get their say in before the League as a whole made a decision. No putting on airs with him. He even laughed at Wally's jokes and put up with his humor. Wally smiled fondly, remembering some of the races they'd had. The only time Big Blue had between him was when it had been an obstacle course, and Supes had just flown straight over it. That hadn't been strictly against the rules, but the loser had clean-up duty for a month on the station. Supes had gotten him pretty good that time.

Of course, lately, the big guy had been a bit of an enigma. Gone for a year, and when he showed back up, there was an almost cocky step in his stride. Wally wondered at that for a long time, but it finally came to him a few months ago: Big Blue wasn't vulnerable to kryptonite anymore. It was still surprising how he'd learned that juicy little tidbit. Bats, as anal and paranoid as anyone could be and still be on the right side of sane, had a little insurance policy to handle Supes if things got ugly between the two of them: a little shard of green kryptonite. Once a month, Bruce would make some comment, use a bunch of misdirection and hand waving, and while no one was looking, uncork the kryptonite. No one else noticed it, but for a man like the Flash, who was used to moving at light speed, it wasn't too hard to see.

The rest of the League might think the Flash was just a cut-up and a jokester, but the old Wallster saw things a bit more clearly than everyone realized.

So, Bats would do his little magic trick stuff and pop open the lead-lined kryptonite container. He never did it close enough so that Supes would really notice, but it was close enough that Big Blue would react. In this case, Clark's nostrils always flared, like he smelled something bad.

About six months back, Bruce had done his whole song and dance shtick. Flash had glanced over at Supes. And then gave did a double take. Big Blue had the look of a man who was pretending not to notice something. After Supes had taken a sidelong look at Batman, Wally was sure of it: all this time, Clark had known exactly what Bruce had been up to. Wally grinned at the thought. Sure enough, when Bruce opened his kryptonite container, Clark's nostrils flared. Only thing was, they flared a split second later than they should have. Bruce hadn't noticed. The difference in timing was probably too small to pick up even on a frame by frame recording, but it was there. Wally had seen it.

From then on, Wally had paid close attention. Every month, just like clockwork, Bruce would do his thing and Supes would do his. After witnessing the time discrepancy a few more times, Wally knew Clark was just acting. The green stuff didn't work on Supes anymore.

Big Blue was even more of a badass now then he had been before. Wally looked forward to the day when his secret would come out. Hopefully, Bats would be around, doing his deep-voiced eerie pronouncement shtick meant to amaze everyone with his smarts. Just seeing the smugness wiped off of Batman's face and his look of shock would be priceless. Old Bats was sometimes too clever for his own good, and watching him get taken down a peg or two would probably be healthy for him. And also absolutely hilarious.

Wally grinned in anticipation.

He snapped open a _Car and Driver_ and propped his feet up on his console, earning himself a reproving glare from Diana. Wally mentally rolled his eyes. Crack a smile, babe, it won't break your face if you did.

Diana stood, and stretched, reaching high and arching her back.

Wally swallowed. He pretended to be engrossed in his magazine, but in reality was taking less than subtle glances at Diana. Her suit was a bit skimpy to begin with. She wore a form-fitting gold and red bustier and star-spangled armored skirt, which ended well above mid-thigh. The damn thing always seemed to swirl around her perfect legs, accenting their shape and length. When she bent down to touch her toes, Wally almost passed out.

Supes may have had a chance with her once. He was an idiot not to have gone for her.

An alarm sounded, and Wally quickly straightened up. "Action?" he asked.

"Looks like it. For some reason, Circe and Solomon Grundy decided to break into the New York Fed. Solomon Grundy is just an idiot after money, but what's the witch want with gold?"

"Circe, huh? We better get some backup."

"Already on it. Looks like Kal is the only one available."

"He's pretty vulnerable to magic, though," Wally complained. "What if she Max Lord's him?"

Diana swallowed, a tight look of concern and almost fear on her face. "That won't happen, Wally," she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. "We won't let it happen. Kal can take on Grundy while you and I take on the witch." She said the last in a firm tone that brooked no dissent.

Wally sighed. "Why do the idiots of the Five Hundred always seem to break out of prison when I have monitor duty?"

Diana smiled. "You must be repaying some heavy karma from a previous life."

"Karma? That's Hindu. You're supposed to be Greek."

Diana rolled her eyes. "We can all of us be many things, Wally," she said. "Ready to go."

"Ready," Wally said, stepping over to the teleporter.

A moment later, he and Diana were standing on a street outside the New York Federal Reserve. Solomon Grundy could be seen at the base if the steps leading up to the building. In his hands were a pair of police cars.

"Grundy crush stupid blue men and their flashy cars," he roared.

Diana smiled. "He really must think a lot of himself to always refer to himself in the third person."

Wally did a double take. Had that been a joke? Naw. No way. "Maybe no one's introduced him to the concept of the personal pronoun," he said. "So sad when you think about it."

"Tragic," Diana agreed, sighing.

"Yes, well, we'll have to do something about the shortcomings of his education some other time," Superman said, arriving in a swirl of wind.

"How do you want to play this out," Diana asked, stepping over to Clark.

Superman smiled. "I was thinking I'd toss Solomon Grundy all the way to Ohio and Flash here could dash in and pop Circe on the noggin a few times until she passes out."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Diana asked.

"Watch in awe at the manly deeds of manly man?" Wally offered.

"Yes, but then what would _you_ be doing?" Diana asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

"What? Hey! I'm a manly man."

"Of course you are, dear," Diana said, patting Wally on the cheek.

Clark chuckled. "Looks like Grundy's finally noticed us."

"Come on, Superman. Bring it on. Witch lady made Grundy strong. Stronger than ever. Stronger than you. Grundy crush you, Punyman."

"He really doesn't know how to use personal pronouns, does he," Superman mused, distractedly. A moment later, he shook his head and sighed. "I guess we better get this over with. I'll take Mr. Third Person. You two take out the witch."

Superman shot forward while Grundy waited at the base of the stairs, holding the police cruisers like they were boxing gloves. Just before Superman reached him, Grundy smashed the cars together, apparently crushing Superman. The dead man's victorious grin was short lived.

Superman had stopped just short of the cars, and Grundy had smashed air. The dead man pulled the cars apart, astonished when he saw Superman standing in front of him, unharmed. His momentary confusion turned to pain as the Man of Steel's eyes glowed red, lasering Grundy and knocking him back a step. That was all the opening Superman needed. He rushed forward, chopping at Grundy's wrists and forcing him to drop the cruisers. With a roar, Grundy bull rushed Superman.

In Wally's experience, Superman usually stood his ground against powerful beasts like Grundy, trading blows with them until they were worn down. This time, Superman stood firm, just like always, but instead of being piledriven down as he often was, he stuffed Grundy's takedown, his left arm guillotining the dead man and forcing Grundy toward the pavement. Superman's eyes glowed and he lasered the back of Grundy's head. The dead man howled in pain, releasing Superman, straightening, and grabbing at his head. For his trouble, Grundy caught a knee in the face that hit with the impact of a missile, sending him stumbling back. Superman followed after him, securing a clinch and pushing, his right leg behind Grundy's left, tripping him down with Superman on top, in full mount. Punches started raining down on Grundy. Vicious elbows thudded into the dead man's forehead, a deep bass note that could be felt a quarter-mile away.

Wally couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Look at that, Diana!" he said excitedly. "Clark's kicking his ass."

Wonder Woman was eyeing the fight with surprise as well. "I've never seen him fight like that," she said, sounding shocked. "I don't what technique he is using, but it is amazingly effective."

Grundy turtled, exposing his back. One last elbow to the back of the dead man's head, and Superman lifted him by the collar of his jacket and waist of his pants, pivoted, and sent Grundy flying out of the city.

Grundy roared as he soared off into the distance.

Wally and Diana walked up to Superman. "Just how far did you throw him, Clark," Flash asked, admiration tingeing his voice.

Superman turned to him, a confused look on his face. "Ohio. I told you that, remember?"

Diana smiled. "Of course, Kal. Ohio." She cocked her head. "Are you going to explain what you just did?"

"I beat Grundy. Again," Clark said, grinning.

"I mean, how you fought," she said in a slow, patient voice. "I've never seen it before."

"I'll go over it with you after we handle the witch," Superman promised. He turned to the Flash. "Your turn."

"So I guess this means I'm still supposed to go hit Circe on the head until she passes out, right?"

"Exactly."

"Great," Wally answered, a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

"Don't worry, Flash. Diana and I will cheer on your magnificence as loudly as we can," Clark said, chuckling.

"Laugh now, Stuporman for in a moment you will be weeping," a voice called out from within the dimness of the building. Striding forward, melting out of the shadows, came the witch, Circe. She was a beautiful woman, lushly proportioned. Just the kind of figure Wally appreciated. Her hair was the color of a dark bruise and her red eyes flashed with amusement. "You will not defeat Circe as easily as you did the dead man."

Diana's lips quirked into a grin. "I guess she doesn't understand personal pronouns either."

Superman glanced at her, a warm smile lighting his face.

Flash shook his head. Those two; around Supes, Diana was so different. All warm and funny. They needed to get a room. He quickly cut off those thoughts. Imagining those two naked was definitely not something he wanted to think about too much. "Time to blur," he said. He took off, invisible to all but Superman.

The witch, though, she had anticipated him. She chuckled low and throaty when Flash reached her – he actually had his fist raised like he was going to hit her on the head. Instead, just as he touched her, lightning crackled like he'd contacted a live wire, and he somersaulted away, ass over elbows, smashing into the far wall. "Foolish boy. Did you think Circe had not prepared for your plans? Hit me until I pass out?" she mocked.

Her chest was doing the most amazing things while she was laughing, and in other circumstances, Wally would have watched and admired the show. Right now, he was too busy trying to regain his bearings. Blearily, he wondered if Circe had joined up with Solomon Grundy since they both liked to refer to themselves in the third person.

Diana took all this in, and in a blink, she flew forward, her golden lasso at the ready.

"Not so fast, child," Circe said. She already had her hand up, and Diana froze in mid-air, unable to move. The witch made a tossing motion, and Wonder Woman smashed into the same wall as had the Flash, crumpling next to him. The witch grinned in triumph as she turned to Superman. "And now you, Stuporman. You really are such a fool. You brought with you only the Princess and the red boy. If the Batman or the Martian or even the Lantern were with you, you might have stood a chance. Not now. I'll simply control your mind like Maxwell did. I'll finish what he started and force you to watch as your body kills your friends."

"Really? Care to try?"  
Circe smiled wide. "Don't mind if I do." A few seconds later, her smile slipped. A frown of concentration appeared on her brow. "What is this? How are you resisting me?"

Superman smiled. "Ancient Chinese secret," he said. He rushed forward, blurring like Wally, suddenly appearing in front of her. Before she could utter a word, he cocked a finger and snapped it against her forehead. She fell bonelessly to the floor.

By then, Wally had shaken off the cobwebs and had stumbled over to Superman. Wonder Woman was also back on her feet.

"I don't understand," Wally said, a petulant tone in his voice.

Diana wore a puzzled look on her face as well. "You've been holding back," she accused, poking Superman in the chest.

He grinned weakly. "Well, I've just been practicing some things with Dr. Fate."

"How long," she demanded.

"About a year and a half," he said.

"So, now you're invulnerable to magic, too?" Wally asked.

Diana turned to the Flash. "What?"

"We can discuss all this later," Superman said in a hurried tone. "Right now, we've got some cleaning up to do. I need to go track down Grundy while you two take care of Circe."

As he was turning to leave, Diana reached out and grasped his arm, turning him around to face her. He stood still as her hand slid down his arm. She held his hand gently. "Practicing magic shouldn't be a part time venture, Kal," she said, softly. "It takes years or even decades of discipline." She looked up into his studiously blank face. "You could have been badly injured." She grimaced. "And I can see by your expression that you would still have done exactly as you have." She shook her head and with a sigh of impatience, she brushed back his obstinate lock of hair. If only she could brush aside his obstinate pride and stupidity. He had no idea what he was getting into. Magic was dangerous. More dangerous than handling a viper. "At least promise me that you'll be careful," she urged.

A brief smile flickered across his face. "I'll be careful," he promised, almost tenderly removing his hand from hers. A fuller smile filled his face as he stepped away. He turned and was airborne.

After he left, Wally wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a plaintive sigh come from Diana. He shook his head. For such smart people, those two sure were stupid.

Diana turned to him. "Let's clean up," she advised. "No one needs to know about this. If Kal wanted the rest of us to know what he's been up to, he would have told us."

"We don't even tell Bats?"

She frowned in thought. "No. Not even Bruce." _So that's where her loyalty lies. Interesting, _Wally thought. He shook off his musings. She was still talking. "We'll pretend Kal just got the drop on her."

"Sounds good to me." _And I'll pretend I don't notice how in love you are with Clark._

Daniel Turner had been not always been a guard at the Federal Reserve. Once he had been a framing contractor, living in the suburbs of Gotham. Building houses had been what he did for a living, but his true calling had been making furniture. Not crappy shit like at some of those so-called high end stores like Pottery Barn, but real honest-to-goodness hand-made furniture, a mix of the simplicity of Mission style with a splash of ornate. He'd been a happy man then, blessed really. He had been married with two teenage kids. The luckiest man in the world he thought. Fifteen years and his wife could still make him weak in the knees with just a smile or a touch. And his kids. He couldn't have asked for better. Never mouthy. Smart. Stayed out of trouble. They'd even come to share his passion for woodworking, helping him out whenever they could. He'd had dreams of saving up enough money to open a true workshop and building furniture on commission. He and his kids.

He entered the Fed and looked at the beautiful woman lying motionless at the feet of the even more beautiful woman and the Flash.

He grimaced, his happy memories and dreams gone. They'd all been erased when one of the Five Hundred, a fucking monster calling himself the Joker had escaped from Arkham. It had been the third time the sonofabitch had escaped Gotham's loony bin prison.

What? They thought they rehabilitate the psychopath. The Batman had caught the mother-fucker, but not before he'd paid a visit to Daniel Turner's suburb. He'd planted bombs all up and down the street. Thirty-five people died that night. The bastard had laughed all the way back to prison. He knew the score: they'd just put him back in Arkham where he'd escape again and kill another bunch of decent folk. And the Batman, if he was really as bad as all that, he wouldn't just keep catching him. He'd man up and stop the fucker. Permanent like.

But, no. That's not how the heroes of the Justice League rolled.

Daniel glanced at Wonder Woman. Well maybe not all of them.

About two years ago, she'd put down a rabid animal; someone calling himself Maxwell Lord. Whatever. Fucking pansy name. Lord was some kind of mind-controller, and he took over Superman and used him as a battering ram, pretty much taking down the rest of the League. All but Wonder Woman. Now she had stones. She did what the Batpussy couldn't. Lord had said he'd die before releasing Superman, and so without even blinking, she'd snapped the prick's neck. Daniel had to hand it to the double-W. She did what none of the others would.

He walked up to her and Flash and unholstered his standard issue Glock 22. He glanced at Wonder Woman. She had those gauntlets, so he had to time this perfectly.

"I don't think you'll need the gun," the Flash said to him. "She's out cold, and Wonder Woman slapped on some magical handcuffs."

Daniel positioned himself, standing at the head of the witch, angled so that double-W couldn't block his bullets. He never thought he'd have a chance to try to even out the score. Time to put down one of this psycho mothers. He smiled at the Flash. "Never can be too careful," he said. He took quick aim at the witch, and emptied his clip. Three head shots, and another two into the torso before Wonder Woman managed to get his pistol away from him, knocking him to the ground.

"What have you done!" she shouted.

"What I had to," Daniel shouted back. "People like her: they think the rest of us aren't even real. To them, we're just toys to play with. To torture. Well now my family can rest in peace. I got one of them." He smiled in grim satisfaction.

"Your family?" the Flash asked.

"Cabrini Laurels. Gotham."

Diana's face turned ashen. The Joker. The massacre four years ago.

"I don't understand this. Your report says that after Circe took out you and Wally, Clark got the drop on her," Bruce Wayne said, looking up from his hardcopy of Diana and Wally's after-action report. She had spoken to Clark and made sure that their reports, along with Wally's, all agreed on the basics of what happened. They didn't lie; they simply omitted a key fact.

"We've been over this before," Diana said, irritation in her voice. "Yes. After she threw me and Wally into the wall, Kal took her by surprise."

Bruce looked truly puzzled. "How? He was standing right in front of her."

Diana sighed. "Yes, but he can move faster than anyone but the Flash," she said. While she was busy gloating over killing all of us, Kal distracted her and managed to get close enough to her to knock her out."

"And then Clark left, and this security guard," Bruce flipped through the report. "Daniel Turner killed Circe?"

Diana's face turned bleak. "Yes. Although, the way he talked, I think he would have been just as happy to kill you."

Bruce turned away, but not before she saw a look of sorrow flash across his face. "He'll have his day in court," he said. "Back to Clark. His actions aren't like him at all. The way he fought Grundy. It shows foresight and training. That's not his style. He's always been one to leap before he looks, plowing straight ahead and damn the consequences. His favorite fighting technique usually consists of swing and swing harder. He can get away with that kind of recklessness given his powers." Disapproval marred his words. It was clear he didn't think much of Clark's approach.

"Maybe he's learning to think outside the box," Diana said. "Becoming more subtle."

"A subtle Superman?" Bruce mused. "That may be the scariest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You? Scared," Diana teased. "The great Dark Knight knows fear?"

Bruce smiled, quick and fleeting. "Every man fears," he said. "I'm just better at controlling mine." He flopped onto the couch next to her. "What do you want to do tonight," he asked.

"I can help you watch over Gotham."

A look of distaste came over his face. "No thanks," he said. "I don't like working with anyone when it comes to Gotham."

"You work with the rest of us when you're on League business."

"That's different," Bruce said. "I have to be part of a team then. Here, it's my home, and I prefer to work alone. It's the only way I can be sure."

"Sure of what?" Diana asked, puzzled.

"That I've still got it."

"What are you talking about, Bruce. Of course you've still got it."

He held out his hands, which she saw were gnarled and swollen with old injuries and arthritis. "Look at them, Diana. They've been broke so many times, I've lost count. Tendons ruptured. Knuckles cracked. Fingernails ripped off. And that's just the hands. Don't get me started on my knees and back. I'm thirty-three years old, and when I get up, I feel like I'm eighty-three. Alfred has to give a full body massage every morning just so I can get out of bed. I figure I've got a few more years in me before I'll have to hang up the gloves and let Dick take over. Too many fights, too many concussions. The suit only protects you so much."

Diana looked at him in concern. "I had no idea," she said.

Bruce glanced at her, a sardonic smile on his face. "Why would you? You're immortal and heal almost as easily as Clark. Damage for the two of you, or even Hal for that matter, doesn't last long. It's never permanent and in a few hours, a day at the most, you're back to being perfect. I don't have that luxury."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. I don't want your pity."

"Empathy, Bruce. Even sympathy. Never pity."

"A true warrior. You understand," Bruce said, leaning closer to her.

Diana settled back into the couch, letting Bruce loom over her. Like Kal, he was a big man, but where Kal, despite his well-defined muscles, seemed lean and lithe, Bruce was thicker, built more like a tank. His weight settled on her as he kissed her. Even here, there were contrasts, Bruce was more heavily muscled, but it was Kal who was heavier. His Kryptonian heritage. She firmly told herself to stop thinking about Kal. He wasn't hers. She was here with Bruce.

Her arms settled over his shoulders, but she was careful not to pull him too firmly into her embrace. Caution with him? How strange. He was the Batman. How odd that she had to be careful not to hurt him.

His kiss became more insistent, and Diana focused on the feel of his lips on hers, tasting the cinnamon on his tongue. A hand slid up her side, and she moved her own to trap his. Her breasts were off-limits. She wasn't sure for how much longer, though. Wayne Manor was empty but for the two of them. Alfred had the night off.

Bruce freed his hand and ran it down her side, down her thigh, and back up again. Once more, she blocked when he came too close to her breasts. He was a good man. A difficult man to understand, but a good one, and she cared about him, loved him even; certainly as a friend and a comrade. Could she love him as a lover as well? Or did she want to remain a virgin forever? No, she wasn't ready to give him that. He hadn't earned it.

Still, this was nice. Bruce would simply have to accept that this was all he could have for now.

She breathed deep, her chest rising and unconsciously, her hips, rose and fell. She felt a tide pulling her under, felt Bruce's hardness against her stomach. She imagined feeling Kal touching her, entering… …Kal?

"Ow. Diana you're squeezing too…ow!" Bruce pinched the back of her elbow, causing her to release him. He sat up quickly, moving away from her as he shook out the hand she had been squeezing and rubbed the back of his head.

With an embarrassed start, Diana sat up as well. "I'm so sorry, Bruce. I just got carried away."

"Yeah, I could tell," he said, laughing half-heartedly.

She looked at him, stricken. How would this ever work out between the two of them if she hurt him whenever she felt passion for him? She firmly squashed the insidious voice that reminded her of just who she had been thinking about moments before.

"Maybe I should go," she suggested.

"Maybe you should," Bruce answered. He stood, taking her hand, and helping her to arise as well. He walked her to the front door. "Well, nothing kills the mood like a man keening in agony," he said, chuckling in self-deprecation.

Diana wasn't fooled. He was humiliated. She kissed his cheek. "See you at the meeting next week."

The wormhole snapped shut, and appearing suddenly in the space between the dwarf planet, Pluto, and the blue gas giant, Neptune, was a capsule; one similar to the ship that had brought an infant Kal-El to Earth. This one, though, was much bigger, and housed within was an engine of destruction; a being created for the sole purpose of commiting genocide. Within was a cold, calculating father's final test of his son.

The capsule's computer took some readings and found its bearings. It headed toward Earth. It would be there in three weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A few days later, Diana and Shayera had monitor duty on the station.

"Shayera, can I ask you a question?" Diana asked.

Hawkgirl turned. Hal had just left, but not before he and Shayera had shared a less-than-chaste kiss. _So there was something there_. Diana schooled her face to stillness, although she wanted to pester Hawkgirl for all the details.

"What is it Diana?" Shayera asked.

"I was hoping to pick your brain about something that's been bugging me."

"What's that?"

"How do you feel when you fall in love?"

Shayera gave her a long stare. "Have you never been in love?"

Diana gave her a sardonic smile. "Of course I've been in love. I was raised on Themiscyra, an island given over to the pursuit of peace and knowledge and nature. In nature, love happens."

Shayera gave her a pointed look. "You mean sex happens. That's not love."

"Yes, well, you know what I mean."

"Did you have lovers on Themiscyra?" Shayera asked, genuinely curious.

"I…experminented," she said. Her face reddened as she continued. "Amazons are not as inhibited when it comes to the relations between those of the same sex as people in the Man's World."

"And?"  
"And, I had relationships with some of my sisters. I kissed them. Maybe even more than kissed, but it never felt right, so I never let it go too far." She sighed. "I'm still a virgin. Men and women."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you asked."

"No. I mean what are you hoping I'll tell you? You're a virgin. Find a man. Or a woman if that's who you are, and lose it."

"I will only give up my virginity to the man I love."

"Man?"

"Man," Diana said firmly. "The few men I've kissed…it was never like that in Themiscyra. It felt so forced an unnatural there. Kissing a man feels right."

"So you want to know what it feels like to fall in love?"

"Yes."

Shayera smiled sadly and shook her head. "Sister, there's so much nonsense written about love in this world. First love. True love. Only love. They're all so foolish. Love is not like that. On Thanagar, we know that how love happens between two people is different for everyone. Sometimes it is like how these foolish humans claim: love at first sight. More often, though, it starts in friendship and affection. Two people who are together often and share a goal or a purpose and a view of things. Sometimes it happens with two people in need, finding their needs met in the other. Rarely is it the case that opposites attract. No matter what some idiotic humans say, that simply won't last. Too many arguments about issues both sides feel passionately about."

"That's as I suspected," Diana said.

"Does this help?"

"It does."

"With certain someone you're seeing?"

"Yes."

Shayera gave her a knowing look. "You're going to end it, aren't you?"

Diana sighed. "I just don't feel for him the way I expect to. Five months, and nothing's changed, so I doubt it will."

Shayera smiled wickedly. "But you like kissing him."

Diana smiled. "Yes. That can be…pleasant, at times."

"So shag him and have done with it."

"If only it were so easy." Diana sighed. She saw Shayera's expectant face. "Nevermind. We simply aren't compatible," she said, hastily. "Besides. I don't love him like that."

"No. I'm sure you don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." _Superman and Diana sure were dense._

"As soon as the others arrive, we'll get the meeting started. I'm sure Bruce has many criminals to glower at," Superman said, smiling at Batman.

Batman smiled briefly. It was a week since his disastrous evening with Diana. He was unamused and not in a good mood. Especially because of what he had to do later.

He looked over at the leader of the Justice League. Clark took his duties too lightly. He was too flip and carefree. Or maybe just too much of a damn optimist. He was the most powerful member of the League by a long shot, possessing the talents and skills of one of Diana's Olympian Gods. Although Clark's typical 'smash and smash harder approach wasn't one that Bruce would have utilized in the same situation. So many ways to use those powers, but Clark was too boring and unimaginative to realize it. He was predictable. Who could take him out, Batman mused. Diana was certainly a much better fighter, both tactically and strategically, and of course, he the Batman had that little shard of kryptonite. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the pocket housing the hidden vial. Clark was a good friend, but in this world, friends went bad. A backup plan was always needed, which is why Bruce also had another kryptonite shard housed in a lead-lined false tooth.

"Yeah, let's get this party started," Wally agreed. "I've got a hot date tonight."

Batman's eyes narrowed. Typical Wally. It wasn't enough that he was the Fastest Man in the Universe®, he also had to make inane comments at an astoundingly fast clip. No wonder Wally liked Superman so much; in some ways they were two peas in a pod with their jokes and banter. Bruce reconsidered. No, they were like a big brother-little brother, and Clark was definitely the adored big brother who little Wally looked up to.

"Sorry we're late," Hal said, as he and Shayera entered the conference room. An odd couple there. A Thanagarian beat cop and a Green Lantern. Given she was an E.T., and his powers came from E.T.s, it wasn't a surprise that they were close. Good fighters. Did what they were asked. Maybe not too bright. Followers. Were they also perhaps intimate? They did seem flushed, especially Hal, who seemed to look everywhere but at Shayera. Batman checked the Watchtower's records. They hadn't been in the training rooms. So, if they weren't flushed from exercise of that sort, Bruce wondered…did her feathers tickle? No matter. It was none of his business unless it interfered with their duties in the League. Then it was most definitely his business.

J'onn was already there, looking as inscrutable as an Indian Buddha. A perplexing alien. Called the Martian Manhunter by some, although his world, Ma'aleca'andr, had actually orbited Rao, Krypton's sun, and had been destroyed in the same supernova that had consumed Clark's world. Of course, the Martian's planet had actually been dead for millennia before that cataclysm. There had been a war of annihilation between J'onn's people, the green Martians and their enemies, the White Martians. He claimed that the White Martians had been evil and sought domination, while the Green Martians had simply wished to live in peace. Both species had been powerful telepaths, and their world had been technologically advanced. But in the end, no one was left standing. It had been a war to the death. Only one J'onn J'onzz had survived. Somehow he had been moved out of time and space and shifted here to Earth by means that he didn't know. A nice story, maybe even fiction, but Batman didn't care. So far, J'onn had been nothing less than splendid as a Leaguer; cool under fire, able to see the big picture, and tough as nails when it counted the most. As far as Batman was concerned, the truth about the White and Green Martians was immaterial. J'onn was here, and he was a valuable team member.

Wonder Woman came in, and Batman sat up a little straighter. She glanced at him and nodded. He still hadn't forgotten the humiliation of their last encounter. He was the Batman; feared by crime lords and thugs the world over. Even when injured, no one took him lightly. He might be down, but he'd never been out. Even when he was seen limping, clutching his side from a broken rib, his enemies knew he was still dangerous. His mind was always two or even three steps ahead of what they had planned, and they knew it. The mind. The most powerful weapon in the world, and his was as dangerous as they came. He was never truly vulnerable.

But Diana. That night, kissing her had been magic. He'd even felt her respond to him, something he hadn't been able to induce before. He was a good kisser. He had to be as Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, but for whatever reason, Diana had never really seemed to be into it in their admittedly few kissing sessions. That night, she had, and Bruce had a stunning revelation that this amazing woman might be his.

But then it had all gone wrong. If she could hurt him so easily when his mind wasn't clear, then what chance did they really have? With other women he had been with, the risk of physical danger had been minimal, and he'd always known they couldn't really hurt him. So, with them, he had allowed himself to lose himself in the pleasure of flesh. With Diana, though, he now knew that such a luxury wouldn't be possible. With her, he'd truly be vulnerable. That wasn't allowed.

His lip curled, not enough for anyone to see. He was the Batman, a master of disguise and emotion, but it was there. Like always, she searched last for Clark, sharing a look with him that was indefinable. Maybe longing? Respect? Love? All of the above? He gave himself a shake. Even if she had consented to sleep with him that night, he doubted that the shadow of Superman would ever really be cast from her heart. There was something mysterious going on there, even if those two didn't see it.

"Right. Since Diana has so graciously decided to grace us with her presence, let's get started."

Diana smiled. "Just hoping to make a dramatic entrance."

J'onn gazed at her. "This is a joke?" At her nod, he continued. "Such an odd thing it is to joke. I've studied this art form at length, but for some reason the skill of comedy eludes me."

"Maybe you just need a better teacher," Wally said. "Everyone knows I'm a funny guy."

"Wally, if he wanted slapstick, you'd definitely be the one to go to," Hal said, grinning. "Like your commercial from last week when you were running flat out, slipped on a banana peel and flew over the moon. Classic."

"Glad you liked it," Wally said.

"Ok, let's not get too carried away," Clark said, reining them in. "The items on the agenda are pretty short. Wally, will you do the secretarial honors?"

"Why me?"

"You can write the fastest."

"Oh."

"Anyway. The Five Hundred haven't been very active in some time. The dustup with Grundy and Circe notwithstanding." A grimace of anger flashed across Clark's face at the remembrance that Circe had been murdered. "What I'd like to know is why? Does anyone have any theories that might give us some idea as to what the Five Hundred have planned? Or why they've been so quiet? Having things settle down like this sits wrong with me. It feels like we're missing an important story here, and until we know what's going on, I feel like we're operating in the dark."

"Lex Luthor," Batman said.

"What about him?" Shayera asked. "If the laws of this planet were just, he'd have been executed long ago."

"With no chance of rehabilitation?" Clark asked.

It was no surprise that he would bring that up. The ultimate Boyscout; he always looked for the good in someone.

"Rehabilitation?" Shayera snorted. "The recidivism rate for people like Lex Luthor is so high, it might as well be one hundred percent. You have a better chance of stopping Darkseid."

"Darkseid can be defeated," Clark answered.

"But only if you go full out. Only if you accept that you might have to kill him in order to stop him."

"I don't kill."

"No you don't and for which the people of Earth are glad. That would be the first step toward your downfall and eventual tyranny. But Darkseid may leave you with no option. Then what would you do?

"Whatever it takes to stop him," Clark answered evenly. A vague answer. He turned back to Batman. "Getting back to Bruce's point. What about Lex Luthor?"

"Lex used to fund most of the Five Hundred related criminality and research. In the past three years, that money and study seems to have slowly dried up." Batman smiled. "Now that money is an object, many of the Five Hundred that were criminals are finding life is a lot more difficult than it used to be. Some of them are even getting legitimate jobs." He looked at Shayera. "After being rehabilitated."

"Does that include the Joker?" she challenged.

Batman grimaced. She'd scored a point. She smiled at his lack of response.

"Well, that certainly makes life easier, doesn't it?" Hal asked.

"It does," J'onn agreed. "But we must understand our place in this ever-changing world. Does the world still need superheroes?"

"Yes," Clark said, answering firmly. "How did your meeting with the G-20 go?"

"They are amenable but require more details."

"What meeting?" Wally asked.

Diana rolled her eyes. "You must have been asleep when we discussed it," she said. "A few months ago, we decided that the Watchtower and the Justice League should be considered its own entity in political terms. Through my contacts with the Themiscyran Embassy, I was able to obtain an invitation for J'onn at the last meeting of the G-20, the organization of the wealthiest nations on Earth."

"Why not go to the U.N.?"

"Because the G-20 runs the show. They've got the money," Hal answered. "The U.N. might give its blessing to what we're trying to do, but it won't do anything without the say so of the nations that pay the bills. The G-20 has all the member-states with vetoes on the Security Council, so going through the G-20 is like going through the U.N., only without all the U.N. bureaucracy.

"We'll have to come up with a more formalized plan," Clark continued. "That's going to require that we actually press forward with our idea of turning the JL into a separate nation-state, and those who join can eventually become citizens. Anyone want to head up a working group to flesh out how this would work? We'll need a constitution, means of attaining citizenship, etc." Superman glanced around.

"It seems so…bureaucratic to do something like that. I kind of like the way things are right now," Wally said, obviously not liking the idea.

"That's because you aren't expected to meet with members of Congress or their staff or other U.N. agencies," J'onn said. "I feel the need to wash clean my mind whenever I am around such…individuals."

"They're snakes," Batman agreed. "In comparison, some of our worst enemies are pretty easy to take on. They make a move with their power, and we counter it. Working the trenches of politics is much more difficult. And utterly thankless."

"I still don't see why we need to be our own country," Wally said.

"Because right now, much of the funding for Watchtower and our affiliated programs is coming from the United States Congress. Which means that we're answerable to them. Of course, some other countries have put in money, but again, we have to answer for how we spend it. It's a tiresome process, and I'm pretty sure J'onn, who's been our liaison in most of meetings is pretty sick of it," Superman explained. "We also get a lot of funding from Wayne Enterprises, but Bruce can only cook the books so much. If the investors found out what else Wayne was funding, there would be some awkward questions. Questions which might lead to the exposure of all of our secret identities. As a formal nation-state, we could move beyond that. We could print money, offer our services for a fee…those kind of things."

"If we're that desperate for cash, maybe we could do a reality show, like the Green Arrow. You know, Arrowing for Justice," Wally said.

"NO!" Everyone said in unison.

"So, what? We're going to charge for the things we used to do for free?" Wally asked in disbelief.

"For now, Wally, yes." Superman put up a hand, holding off Wally's objections. "Not when it comes to saving lives, but when the initial mission is over, if we're asked to do clean up or reconstruction, a bill will be sent. We'll have to have treaties with all nations so they actually pay up, but the point of all of this is to get the G-20, or the U.N. Security Council, or a single inter-governmental agency to fund Watchtower so we don't have to go begging all the time."

Wally pondered Clark's words. "Politics sucks."

"Amen, brother," Hal said, with feeling.

Diana looked around. "If nobody else wants to step up, I can head the working group," Diana said. "My experience as the Themiscyran Ambassador should help me iron out how we should do this." She turned to the Manhunter. "J'onn has working relationships with all the groups involved, so I'd like his help if he doesn't mind."

"I don't mind at all," J'onn said in his typically solemn tone.

After that the meeting was quickly adjurned.

"Diana, could I speak to you for a moment," Batman asked as everyone was filing out.

"Of course, Bruce. What is it?"

"Us?"

"Yes?"

Batman looked at Diana. It wasn't hard to believe that she had been fashioned by the Gods. Flawless didn't begin to describe her. It wasn't just her physical beauty, but everything else that went with it. She was kind and generous and warm. A warrior with a heart of gold. He was drawn to her because he was none of those things. He couldn't afford to be. It was a weakness for a mere mortal like him. He had to be hard because those he fought were hard. He had to be serious because frivolity dulled the mind and hid what was truly important. He paused in his litany of his own defects, and amended his flaws. He was generous. No one could doubt that, but in the end, he knew the truth: she was too good for him. Besides, he was the Batman, and Gotham was and always would be his true mistress. "I've enjoyed getting to know you over the past few months," he said.

"But you think we should move on and see other people?" Diana guessed.

Batman hid his surprise. "How did you know?"

Diana cupped his cheek and smiled wistfully. "Our last date together. A woman knows when the end has happened."

"You understand why?"

"Yes, I think so. You can't afford to be vulnerable." She sighed sadly, moving her hand away. "It isn't a weakness, you know?"

"Easy for you to say. You're almost invulnerable."

"Only physically, Bruce, but I'm still only a woman. The most important part of me is who I am, and that part can be hurt just as easily as anyone else."

"Will this hurt you then? My ending things like this."

Diana's eyed him in mild reproof. "Of course it will, Bruce. How could you think otherwise? I too enjoyed our time together. Did I think it would lead to something richer?" She shook her head. "In this world, Bruce, girls imagine the man they'll marry when they're just young teenagers. I never had that concern, but that doesn't mean I'm immune to thinking that way."

Bruce was startled. "You thought of us getting married?"

"No, I wouldn't say that," Diana recanted. "But I did dream." She paused a moment, thinking. "But, you were right the first time. It is time to end things."

Bruce looked troubled. _Was he giving up on the woman that would have filled that hollowness inside him? The ray of light in his shadowy life._ _ Someone who could have led him to set aside his suit and his mission? Life without the mission, what would that be like? _He tried to shrug off the burgeoning disappointment. "And how will this affect our working relationship?"

Diana smiled. "We're teammates, remember? We were that before there was an 'us', and we'll be that after 'us' ends."

Batman smiled a genuine smile of warmth. "Thank you, Diana. "

"Thank _you_, Bruce," she said.

"For what?"

"For helping me to know myself better." She kissed him softly on his cheek, a mere brush of her lips before leaving.

Bruce Wayne wondered if was a fool.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I still don't understand why you have to take extra duty," Lois said. She knew she was complaining, but dammit, she was tired of having to always share her man with the rest of the world. On top of that, her boyfriend felt the need to fly Miss Perfect, Wonder Woman back to her home island. Did he even realize how jealous she was of the relationship the two of them had? She was Clark's girlfriend, but Diana was his _best_ friend. She hadn't really been around the two of them together, but she could just imagine how things must stand from the way he talked about her. All the fighting, hurting, healing, and saving that they shared. All those moments, those tender, bittersweet episodes shared with Wonder Broad, a woman who was to beautiful as the sun is to warm.

"I told you what we're planning on doing with the Watchtower and the League," Clark explained. "Diana wants to go home for a few days and talk things over with her mother. Get her viewpoint on the matter. She is a queen, you know."

"Yes, I know that, Clark," Lois began patiently. "What I don't understand is why you have to fly her back to the island."

"It's the only chance we'll have to talk for the next few weeks probably, and I think she wants to give me a piece of her mind." Clark didn't look to happy about that.

"What did you do," Lois asked bluntly. "Wonder Chick wouldn't be pissed at you unless you did something truly stupid."

Clark sighed and looked outside. It was raining, and he was silent for so long that Lois wondered if he was even going to answer. Finally, he turned to her. "I took lessons from Dr. Fate on magic and telepathy. Diana has some concerns."

Lois was puzzled. What did she know about all this? Those powers were all one and the same as far as Lois was concerned. "I'm going to guess that _Diana_ " – even the way he said her name rubbed her wrong. It was like he had her up on a pedestal – "had more than just a few concerns. I'll bet she thinks it might have been a very bad idea."

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, in a nutshell. I've pretty much been avoiding her ever since she found out."

Lois didn't like Wonder Woman, but still, it amused her to think that Clark Kent, Superman, the most powerful person on the planet was running away from a woman. It would have been funnier if she could forget all the gossiping about Superman and Wonder Woman when Diana had first burst onto the world scene seven years ago. The two of them both had an unearthly beauty and similar godlike powers. Everyone thought they were a match made in heaven.

Clark already spent too much time alone with her. Flying her home just sounded too romantic. Lois was jealous, but she had no reason to lash out like she really wanted to. Clark had always been upfront and open about his relationship with Diana. And he was with Lois, so that must count for something.

"Well, get her there quick and come back as soon as you can," Lois said.

"Believe me, I will," Clark said with feeling. "Getting chewed out by Diana isn't how I want to spend Saturday." He stood. "I better get going."

"Bye Clark," Lois said, coming up to him and giving him a kiss.

"Bye Lois."

He zipped out of her apartment and headed to Smallville, where he would be meeting Diana.

When Clark had gotten to know the Princess a bit, he discovered that she longed for a place of serenity and quiet, which wasn't surprising given that she was from an island of primitive beauty. The rush and hecticness of the embassy in Washington, D.C. must have been maddening. She had looked frazzled and at wits end one afternoon about four years ago, so Clark had asked her to take the weekend off and come visit his family's farm in Smallville. She'd loved it, just as she loved his parents and they, her. Now, the farm was their typical meet-up spot whenever they had time off and just wanted to talk.

Clark scanned ahead while he flew, making sure no one was tracking him, either in the air, space, or on the ground. The Bats paranoia was rubbing off on him. All clear. Two minutes later – he hadn't gone supersonic – he was opening the front door.

Diana was already there, wearing a loose white tunic and leggings cinched at her ankles by laced sandals. Her lasso was on her waist. He was struck again by her beauty. She was tall, and that and her physical perfection seemed to diminish the kitchen and made it seem smaller. "Mrs. Kent, I can help with the asparagus if you like," she was saying as he walked in.

Martha Kent smiled at the beautiful Amazon. "That's kind of you to offer, dear, but I've got it all in hand," she said, wisely not taking Diana up on her offer. Martha still remembered the mashed potato incident from last summer.

"Hi mom," Clark said as he entered the house. "Hi Di," he added.

"Hi sweety," his mom said, coming around the butcher block island to kiss him on the cheek. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Clark replied. He snagged a gallon jug of milk from the fridge and took a long swig, nearly draining it.

"Clark Kent! We live on a farm, but we don't live in the barn. Use some manners and get a glass."

"But mom, it takes too long that way," Clark protested.

His mother sighed. "Thirty-one and he still can't get a glass out of the cabinet," she muttered.

Clark caught Diana hiding a smile. That earned her a glare. "I'm sure it would be pretty funny if I could see how you are around your mom," he said.

"That's not likely since men aren't allowed on Themiscyra," Diana replied. "And even if they were, you'd have to penetrate the magic that surrounds the island. Speaking of…"

"I think I just heard my dad call me," Clark interrupted, which was true, although his dad had actually been calling from the barn and asking if lunch was ready. "Gotta go." He dashed off before Diana could get another word in. He really didn't want to have that conversation.

"Tell your father to clean up. It's almost time for lunch," his mother said.

"Kal-El, I know you can hear me," he heard Diana's voice. "Don't make me have to bring your mother into this. If you don't face me and discuss what you've been doing, you'll be answering to her as well as to me."

Clark winced. That was fighting dirty.

He went into the barn where his dad was working on the tractor.

"Clark, just the man I wanted to see," his dad said. Jonathon Kent was a tall, slender man. He had been Clark's tower of strength while growing up; strong, steady, and sure. Clark couldn't imagine his life without him. Physically, of course, Jonathon Kent posed no challenges for his Kryptonian son, but strength of character counted for so much more. His will, but more importantly his generosity of spirit and underlying decency and honor had formed the bedrock for Clark's young life. The unwavering love that his father had for his family were the reasons Clark Kent became Superman. The rest of the world had no idea how different the world would have been if not for the moral man at the heart of Clark Kent's life.

So, it was with sadness that Clark noted the slight stoop in his father's back. It had slowly been getting worse over the past few years. His dad's once blond hair was now wispy and white. His face, always seamed from working outside, was now even more deeply crevassed with wrinkles. His father was getting old.

"Hi dad," Clark said. "What do you need me to do?"

Jonathon Kent smiled, his blue eyes creasing. "Lift up the front end of the trailer, would you? I'm told old to go crawling around on my hands and knees."

"Whatever you're doing, you better hurry up. Mom says clean up for lunch," Clark said, lifting the tractor.

"Are you and Diana staying," his dad asked as he reached up and re-attached the lines to the spark plugs. "Why these idiots designed it so that the plugs go in under the engine I'll never know," his dad muttered under his breath. With a grunt he was done.

"I doubt it," Clark answered, setting the tractor down. "I'm supposed to fly Diana back to her island."

His dad looked up at him and frowned. "Why can't she fly back on her own?"

"She wants to chew me out."

His father grinned. "Uh oh. What did you do?"

With a sigh, Clark explained what he had been studying for the past year. After he finished, his father shook his head. "What does Lois think?"

"She agrees with Diana, mostly because she figures Diana would only get mad at me if it was really serious."

His dad pulled out an old rag and rubbed the grease from his hands. His brows were furrowed. "I thought Lois didn't like Diana?"

"She doesn't. She trusts her opinion when it comes to keeping me safe, though."

Jonathon Kent shook his head. "Son, I think you were being a fool. If there's one thing I taught you it was that you it was to respect your friends and listen to their advice. That doesn't mean you have to take it, but it helps if they know what's on your mind. I imagine Diana is angry that you didn't trust her to talk over your plans first. Now you've got two women mad at you."

"Clark, tell your father lunch is ready." Clark heard his mom's voice.

"Mom says come in for lunch."

"Let me wash up, and I'll be there in a sec."

"See you inside," Clark said, leaving the barn. He walked back to the house, finding Diana and his mom chuckling over something. "What is it?" he asked. They both took one look at him and burst out in fresh laughter. "Never mind. Keep your little womanly jokes to yourselves." He glanced at Diana. "Ready to go?"

"Surely you're staying for lunch," his mother said, looking unhappy.

"I don't want to impose Mrs. Kent," Diana said.

"Oh no imposition at all," his mom said. "Why, as often as you're here, it's almost like you're family. Like a daughter."

"Who's our daughter?" his dad asked, coming into the house.

"Diana," his mom answered.

"And couldn't ask for a more lovely one." He kissed his wife on the check and hugged Diana. "You look as beautiful as always, hon."

"Thank you, Mr. Kent. Diana said smiling. "I can see where Clark gets his silver tongue."

"Who?" Martha said, laughing. "Whoever he is, tell him to give Jonathon some lessons."

"You're just lucky I'm not Clark's age," his dad said, scooping Martha into the circle of his arms. "I'd have tried to woo Diana myself, and then where would you be."

"Still with you."

Jonathon smiled back at her. "Always," he said, placing a delicate kiss on her lips.

Clark smiled. His parents were so in love after all these years. Would he ever find someone to share his life with like that? He glanced at Diana, who was also looking at Clark's parents with a wistful expression on her face. She caught his glance, and they both turned away.

After lunch, Clark and Diana took their leave of the Kents, Diana promising to come for Thanksgiving.

As they went airborne, Clark scanned the surroundings. No one was watching, directly or remotely. Good. He glanced down at Diana. "Race you," he challenged.

"Not this time," she said. "You owe me an explanation."

"Only if you can catch me." With that, he shot away.

"Kal-El, get back here," Diana yelled. With an oath, she took off, knowing he was too fast for her.

He teased her, slowing until she was close and then darting away. "Come on, Princess. Is that the best you got?" He mocked her by flying upside down, ten feet directly below her. Every time she tried to match his altitude, he juked and jived, laughing as she touched nothing but air.

At first, Diana was angry, but then she became amused. He was such a playful soul sometimes, even with all that they were expected to do and all that they had seen together. Somehow, through it all, he was still able to be silly and laugh at life. She slowed, letting Kal pull away from her. He slowed down as well, looking back at her and grinning in challenge. She smiled back. He had no idea what was coming.

He was suddenly engulfed in a thick, black cloud, and now she was hidden from view. She darted forward, near to where she was sure he would exit. She waited, a smile of anticipation on her face.

Hera's ghost! Suddenly her buttocks felt like they were they were on fire. She twirled around, and there he was, in a completely different location than where she had expected. He let her see the redness of his eyes before they faded back to their normal cerulean blue. "You lasered me," she shouted in disbelief. "And in the butt."

His laughing taunt was a spur. That did it! She loosened her lasso, and just as he was about to launch away, she snagged his ankle. He felt it land, and he looked at it for a moment before turning to her and smiling wickedly. "Do you think you can pull me in?"

"I always have before," she grunted, tugging on the rope.

With a grin, he took off, dragging her with him. Hera! What had gotten into him today? She held onto the lasso, pulled along as he picked up speed. He'd never been able to overcome the lasso's effects before. Why now? With a start, she realized the answer. He'd been taking instruction from Dr. Fate.

With grim concentration, she planned her next move. This had gone on long enough. He was flying in wide curves, and she timed it, floating down a little below him, letting the swing from his next turn catapult her forward. At the apex of her speed, she tugged on the rope, slowing him down and accelerating her even further. He was glancing back, wondering where the weight on the rope had gone when she slammed into him, chest to chest. Her long legs wrapped around him, just below his hips, trapping his legs and clinching him to her. She glared at him, her lovely face inches from his.

He grinned weakly. "I give?"

"By Zeus, Kal, you're done running from me," she said, frowning angrily. "You WILL answer my questions."

He glanced at his ankle, which was still held by the lasso. "I'll be truthful with or without the golden lariat," he said. "But, umm, maybe you can let go of me now?" Their position was extremely uncomfortable for him. Being trapped between her strong, athletic thighs felt too good. He didn't like how much he was enjoying the feel of her against him, especially the press of her breasts against his chest. He looked at her. She was too close and too beautiful. He looked away.

"I have your promise you won't try to run."

"I promise."

She released him from her grip and unbound him from her lasso.

He smiled. "I said nothing about flying away."

"Kal," she said, warningly.

"Just kidding, Diana," he said, holding up his hands. "I give up. What do you want to know?"

She stared at him. "I want to sit down first. Let's go to the island."

He looked at her, a confused expression on his face. "Why?"

"So when I hear you out, I'm not likely to punch you out and knock down a bunch of trees. I don't want to ruin the beauty of the place."

"Why is it that women always seem to resort to threats of violence?"

She sniffed. "I can't speak for all women, Kal, but as for me, I'm an Amazon. It's what we do."

"And all that peace and beauty and learning your embassy espouses? What about all that?"

"Don't turn this around on me. You're the one who has questions to answer."

He sighed. "Fine. Let's go."

An hour later, they landed on a small island in the middle of Caribbean, far from any populated places. It was a little over two miles across, too small for anyone to bother living there. Lush and verdant, it had been formed by a solitary volcanic peak that poked out of the aqua blue water like a green pyramid. Kal had discovered it by accident about seven years ago, crashing into it during a fight with a battle robot Lex Luthor had built. The pilot of the robot, John Corben, had nearly died, but had been resurrected as Metallo.

Kal had repaired the damage he and Corben had done to the place as best he could, although long scars still marred the landscape. The reason he still came here was because of how he viewed the island. It was a metaphor for the Earth itself. Despite the flaws and the scars, there was so much beauty and potential. The place was alive in a way the icy coldness of the Fortress never could or would be. He'd shared the secret of it with Diana a few years back during a period when she needed some down time and privacy. She had cooed over the island, especially the small pond at the western base of the mountain; a blue sapphire in a setting of emeralds, glistening under the tropical sun.

Kal touched down on a large black rock that jutted out into the freshwater pool. He sat with a sigh, taking off his boots and letting his feet dangle in the water.

Diana came down next to him, unlacing her sandals, and also letting her feet dip into the water. The length of her thigh pressed lightly against his.

"Why?" Diana demanded.

"Why what?"

"Why risk your life studying magic? You of all people know how dangerous it is."

Kal looked into Diana's eyes. She wasn't so much angry as curious. Ok. A little angry. And was that… fear? "You're right. I knew how dangerous it is," he said. "But, magic and my vulnerability to it has always been one of my biggest weaknesses." He shrugged and turned to look out at the water. "I thought I needed to fix that little problem."

"Little problem?" she said in disbelief. "Look at me, Kal." She guided his chin, gently turning him to face her once more. "You've never felt that it was a weakness so great that you needed to risk your life over it."

"I had a reason."  
"Did you?" She looked at him askance. "Wally said you were _also_ invulnerable to magic now. What did he mean?"

He smiled at her. "How did he figure that out, anyway? I'll have to ask next time I see him," he said, musingly. "Anyway, I'm invulnerable to kryptonite." He laughed as her jaw fell open. "Every color of it except the blue. I decided enough was enough last year when Metallo almost killed me." He shook his head. "If it wasn't for you and Hal, I wouldn't be here."

"And was that the same reason why you pursued this study of magic?"

He stood, suddenly agitated. Why did she have so many questions? Couldn't she just leave it alone? He usually could control his emotions very easily; a product of his Kryptonian heritage. Now, he felt eaten up and roiled inside, unable to focus. With an almost a forcible jerk, he reined in his racing thoughts. "Yeah, pretty much," he finally answered.

She stood as well, stepping into his personal space, but then she had always done that. For whatever reason, being physically close to him never seemed to affect her the way it did him. He made a conscious effort to keep the nervous sweat from beading on his forehead and his heart from beating more quickly. Her own remained steady.

She looked into his troubled eyes. Standing so close to him wasn't something she purposefully did. It was just her way with him. For whatever reason, she liked to be near him. She liked to feel the heat coming off of him – he was so much warmer than a normal human. That he never seemed to mind was touching; his trust was something she treasured more than anything else she could name. Her pulse quickened as she saw the anguish in his eyes. She hated seeing him like that. She wanted to do nothing more calm his heart and gentle his hurt.

"No. That's not the only reason," she said, reaching up to brush back the curled hair on his forehead. At his silence, her eyes narrowed. "What is it, Kal? You can tell me anything. You know that, don't you?" A moment later, her eyes widened with sudden understanding. "It has to do with me, doesn't it?"

He looked up, startled. Bruce might be deductive, but Diana had been fashioned to _know_ the truth. Her lasso, that obviously helped, but really it was the essence of her being, her beautiful empathy that let her love so deeply that was perhaps her greatest gift. "Of course it's about you," Kal said. "Max Lord," he whispered.

Diana took a step back. Now it was her turn to be startled. "What does he have to do with any of this?"

Kal laughed bitterly. "He has everything to do with it, Diana. He controlled my body. I nearly killed you," he said, his voice rising in anger. He abruptly cut himself off and just as quickly, seemed deflated. "Your mother would know what that feels like. As would your sisters." He was unable to look her in the eyes. "He gave me a vision of you as Darkseid, but I knew it wasn't true. The truest part of me was awake and aware of what was going on the entire time. I remember all of it, and how helpless I was. What it felt to be used like that. How filthy and violated I felt afterward."

Her eyes welled. She had never considered that. Oh Hera, what he must have gone through. In all her years, she had never considered that a man might so completely understand the defilement her mother and sisters had experienced at the hands of Heracles and his men. But, while the Amazons of Themiscyra had been able to offer comfort to one another, offer healing during their time of distress, who had been there for Kal? She kissed him softly, a gentle caress on the cheek. "Kal. I'm so sorry," she said. "Why didn't you say anything?" She looked at him, heart aching for the pain he had to endure. She gasped with sudden horror. "You haven't spoken of this to anyone have you?"

"No." He smiled bleakly and stared at nothing. "I'm Superman, remember."

"You could have come to me. I would have listened," she said softly, almost pleadingly. "Can you say the words?"

"No," he whispered. Silence held the island and his face now looked like it had been carved from granite, as hard and emotionless as one of the statues of the Gods on Themiscyra.

He held the pain down, beat it into submission. Rape…No. He wouldn't allow himself to say it or even think it. A shuddering breath, and he had his emotions back under control. He looked at her. "I went to Fate to protect myself, but I also went to him so that you would never again have to be in a position to have to kill for me."

"Kal, I would die for you. Do you doubt that I have the strength to protect you no matter the cost?"

"I don't doubt you, Diana," he said, caressing her cheek. "But I also saw how killing Lord affected you. How much pain you went through." He frowned, deeply unhappy again. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. I even hurt you." He shook his head, angry at all the grief he'd put this woman through; this woman who meant more to him than his own life. He laughed bitterly. "You only did what you did to save me, and that was how I thanked you? By judging you and nearly casting you aside. Out of the League. Out of my life." He looked at her pleadingly. "If I could take back all those words, all those months of anguish I caused. If I could have been there for you, to let you cry, to talk, just to be a shoulder to lean on, I would. I would do anything to make those months go away. I'm so sorry for hurting you, Diana." He took another calming breath. "I risked my life for you. So you wouldn't have to suffer."

Diana stepped to him, hating to see his torment. She pulled him into the warm embrace of her strong arms, her cheek pressed to his. "Kal, none of that matters. Whatever I was going through must have been but a shadow compared to your own pain," she whispered into his ear. "No matter what worlds we live in or what lives we lead, I will always think of you as a friend. My best friend." She kissed him again, on his closed eyelids. "And I forgave you for all that happened between us long ago." She peered into his eyes, which were still masked and empty. "I'm sorry I couldn't see your terrible hurt, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you as well. But, I'm here now. And I'm strong enough to hold you." She pulled him close once more, her cheek pressed to his.

Jonathon had raised Kal to be strong, to be the rock upon whom so many others leaned. Who does a man like that lean on though?

Diana felt the wetness of his tears. She held him as Superman cried.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Diana left Kal at the border of Themiscyra. The island's magic kept it hidden and separate from the rest of the world, and without the permission of her mother, Queen Hippolyta, no man was allowed access to the Amazonian homeland. They had flown there in silence for the most part.

After Kal left, Diana landed on Themiscyra, at the entrance to her mother's palace. It was late night, and the full moon hung low, the light casting willowy shadows on the ground. The guards had already been informed of her pending arrival by the Sentinels, and they smiled and passed her on through. Her mother was in conference with General Phillipus. Diana caught the tail end of their conversation as she strode through the open double doors of her mother's study.

"…more demons than ever before recorded according to Nu'Bia," Phillipus was saying. "She thinks we should have a contingent of reserves available immediately beyond the Doorway, on Themiscyra proper, in case any of the Fallen make it past the First Phalanx."

"See to it then," her mother said. "I leave it your judgment as to who should be in charge of the reserves and the guard rotation." She glanced up seeing her daughter, and her face brightened. "Diana, what brings you home?" she asked, her voice warm. Hippolyta was a handsome woman. Her skin retained the smooth fullness of a woman in her twenties, but her incongruous eyes revealed the queen's ancient wisdom, garnered over three millennia of life. A few inches shorter than her daughter, she was blonde haired and brown eyed and since Diana was not the flesh of her body, she and her daughter did not share many physical features. But, there were enough similarities that strangers would know them to be related. It was in their carriage, the way they moved, the lilt of their voices, their choice of words and phrases, and the bright and curious intelligence that was readily seen in both of their eyes.

Her mother rose, and walked swiftly to Diana, bringing her into a hug. "You look troubled, child. What is it?"

Diana wasn't surprised that at her mother's perception. The queen had long ago ceased to surprise her daughter with her insight. Diana smiled, and nodded to Phillipus. "Daskalos," she said, offering the general the honorific of 'Teacher'. During Diana's long childhood, it had principally fallen to Phillipus to train her in all the forms of combat at which the Amazons excelled.

"Spoudastis," Phillipus replied, greeting her one-time student. The general turned to Diana's mother. "I'm certain the two of you have much to discuss. I'll finalize my plans for the doorway, and review them with you at your leisure." With that the general, bowed low and walked out.

Diana followed her and closed the doors to the study after Phillipus had left.

Hippolyta quirked an eyebrow. "Privacy? Should I close the windows as well so no spies may hear our words?' she asked, her tone amused. "Diana, what is it? I'll probably go over whatever you tell me with the Council anyway, so it won't matter who hears us."

Diana turned to her mother. "I have some private matters I'd like to discuss with you. It's about the Justice Leauge, and I'd d rather that no one, the Council or even Phillipus, learn of them just yet."

"You wish me to keep secrets from my Council? I'll consider what you have to say, but I make no promises," Hippolyta said, taking a seat behind her desk. The desk had been a gift from the British monarch, Elizabeth II to Hippolyta after Themiscyra first became known to the world at large. It was old for the Patriarch's world, over four hundred years, and used by one of that nation's own great queens, Elizabeth I. Hippolyta had read about Elizabeth I, and had come away impressed. A powerful woman: brave and compassionate, but ruthless when she needed to be. She should have been an Amazon. "Before we begin, tell me why you look so troubled."

"Kal-El," Diana said, crossing the room and seating herself across from her mother. "He told me something today, something he's told no one else. I'd rather not discuss it."

Her mother barked with laughter. "I'll wager that's true, Diana, but your young Kal-El always seems to tell you of things he's never told anyone else. Even the Lane woman, though you say that the two of them are nearly mated. Why do you suppose that is?" she asked, a sly look on her face.

"Mother, I'm not sure why you continue to make this not-so-subtle insinuations," Diana said. "Kal and I are best friends. That is all. And best friends share things."

A knowing smirk appeared on her mother's face. "I'm certain he would like to share more than just his secrets," she said.

"Don't make what we have into something crude and pornographic," Diana said.

Hippolyta snorted in disgust. "He is a man, Diana. Their minds are nothing if not crude and pornographic. It is in their nature."

Diana sat back and sighed. "Do our conversations always have to devolve onto this same monotonous track?" she asked. "I live in the Patriarch's World now. You sent me there, remember."

"I sent you nowhere," Hippolyta snarled. "It was the will of the Gods that we send a Champion, but it was my will that you not enter the Tournament. You disobeyed me. I did not make that decision. Had I been able, even now you would be here by my side, on Themiscyra, learning to become the Queen you may one day still become." She grimaced, an ugly look of contempt on her face. "Instead, you chose the Patriarch's world over that of your sisters. It is polluting you."

"So you have said many times," Diana said. "I would have hoped that time and understanding would have graced you with wisdom instead of blind hatred and bitterness."

"How dare you!" Hippolyta hissed. "Hatred and bitterness? You have led a pampered and golden existence, girl. You have never known true loss; never known true betrayal; and never felt unclean hands clutching at you, defiling you, and Gods' willing, you never will! So don't speak to me of hatred and betrayal. I know exactly what those things mean."

Diana stared at her mother. Her pain, even three thousand years after the rape by Heracles, was so close to the surface. Is this what Kal had been feeling all this time? How did he still laugh with all that pent up hurt and anguish?

"I didn't come here to rehash old arguments," she said. "My life is my own…"

"Yes, I've heard reports about that. About the time you spend with your Batfellow."

Diana shook her head. She was tired. The last thing she wanted was to argue with her mother. Again. "How is it that you could show me so much love as a child, but when I make my own decisions, you continually show me the back of your hand?"

"I've never struck you," her mother said, sounding outraged.

"No you haven't, but every conversation I've had with you since I became Champion always descends into you reiterating my faults, stupidity, licentiousness, and betrayal of all that is Amazonian, and by that, you mean you personally. You have a choice here, mother: accept that I am my own woman, or cut me from your life. I tell you now I won't have it this way any longer."

Her mother's face was ashen. "You would truly choose these _men_ over your sisters? Over me?"

Diana looked at her mother. "I don't want to have to choose anything," she pleaded. "You've never given credence to any of the reports I sent back, even when other Amazons corroborated what I had witnessed. The outside world is not Manichaeistic, a place where men are all irredeemably evil and women are all full of goodness and virtue. You've raised this idea of men being foul and corrupt until the principle has become your own personal tautology. But it isn't true, and you know it. Even here, on Themiscyra, we see how wrong-headed such an opinion is. What do you suppose the men who were enslaved and brutalized by our sisters, the Bana-Mighdall, felt about women? Do you believe their own rapes caused them any less pain because they were men?" Diana usually had very good control of her emotions, but now, her voice was ragged and she seemed close to tears.

Hippolyta looked concerned. "Diana, what aren't you telling me? This isn't about our usual disagreements."

Diana sighed. "No, it's not," she admitted.

"Then what?"

"I cannot say," Diana replied. "It is not my place."

"Kal-El?"

"Perhaps," Diana agreed.

Hippolyta regarded her daughter silently. It had to be about the Kryptonian; he had her daughter's heart, and whatever he had told her daughter, it had hurt her grievously. It didn't involve Diana directly, that much was clear. Something had wounded Kal-El. Defeated him perhaps. Hippolyta snorted. How could anything hurt that man? He had power to rival Zeus. She frowned, nonplussed. Or perhaps not defeat but humiliation; something he had told to Diana, but which he wanted no one else to learn of? Wait. What Diana had just spoken of when she had become so flustered and angry. Hippolyta's eyes narrowed in speculation. "He was defiled," she guessed.

Diana simply nodded. Her mother hadn't remained Queen for so long simply through royal prerogative and tradition. No. Her mother was sharp and very intuitive. A strong queen needed to be able to recognize the moods of those around her, and decipher their hidden meanings. In this, Hippolyta was without peer. In some ways, she was more devious than Lex Luthor.

"Not physically, but he did say you and our sisters would know what he went through."

Hippolyta seemed to crumple. She fell back heavily against the back of her chair. "You love him, and it grieves you to see him hurt."

"I killed for him, mother. I would die for him as well."

"Then your choice would truly have been him over us," Hippolyta said, smiling sadly. "Diana, I had hoped to spare you the pain that is to come."

"What pain?"

"The pain of loss. He is a man, meant to live a mortal's allotted time. You are not, my love."

"Perhaps no human is truly meant to live forever," Diana mused.

Her mother gave her a sharp glance. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I'm just weary, Diana responded. "Tomorrow I'd like to discuss those ideas I spoke of earlier. The League is considering forming a new nation. Your advice and input would be invaluable." She stood, and her mother did as well.

"Bring it before the Council tomorrow morning," her mother suggested, also rising. "You will get a more nuanced response that way."

"Clark, look at this," Lois said, pushing a large stack of papers toward him.

Clark flipped through the pages, seemingly just glancing at page after page. Occasionally he would whistle appreciatively or make a comment. A few minutes later, he was finished, and he looked up at Lois. They were in her apartment. "When are you going to work this into a story?" he asked.

Typically, this kind of information: possible evidence of money laundering; selling of illegal arms to foreign nations; insider trading. This kind of material would have had Lois hopping around in excitement. Uncharacteristically, she simply sat on the couch, looking out the window with a morose expression on her face. "I already have," she said. "I showed it to Perry."

"And?"

"And he said that there wasn't enough proof to run it."

"He spiked it?" Clark said, astonished. Perry White was an old-school newshound. He'd climbed the corporate ladder the hard way: starting as copy boy, then beat writer, then editor of the news division, and finally editor-in-chief. Sniffing out the secrets that those in power wanted to keep hidden was the reason for his being. "He must have gotten some pretty heavy heat from the higher ups."

"Yeah. Not a surprise given that the story is about the shady dealings of LuthorCorp." Lois frowned. "And Lex just happens to own forty-nine percent of the Planet."

Clark smiled.

"I don't see what's so funny about this, Clark," Lois said.

"It's not, but it's just…well, if you can think like Lex, you'd understand. He bought into the Planet about three years ago, when the paper was hemorrhaging money. Lex was like a white knight back then, saying he just saw a good investment where everyone else saw an albatross. He even promised to stay out of the news and editorial divisions."

"Yeah. That's right."

"Anyway, I always wondered why he would do something like that. I mean, Lex never puts his money into something unless there's a very good reason to do so."

"And what's the really good reason," Lois asked, sounding annoyed. Honestly, Clark spent way too much time around Bruce these days. The few times she'd met Bruce Wayne as the Batman, she'd quickly grown tired of his weirdo guesses and terse pronouncements. She was sure that it was just an affected manner on his part, meant to shock-and-awe people with his intelligence. Ok. We get it. You're smart. Now try to _communicate _so that people actually can understand you smartguy! Clark must have picked up that irritating habit.

"He bought in so that he could control you," Clark said, still smiling.

"That's absurd," Lois responded.

"Is it? He's probably got all the other news reporters in the city in his back pocket in some way or another. We did that small study on that a few years back, remember? We wanted to know why we were the only ones who ever worked the 'LuthorCorp-criminal enterprise'angle.

"That's right," Lois chimed in. "He was bribing or intimidating all of the others somehow."

"But he had no way to hook his claws into you and shut you up," Clark said, grinning now.

"So he bought the paper," Lois finished. She shook her head. "He is one devious sonofabitch," she said, admiringly.

"That he is," Clark agreed.

Lois grinned then, a wide Cheshire cat smile. "I've got a secret he doesn't know," she almost sang.

"What is it?"

"I've taken the job in New York," Lois said, sounding excited. "I can still run the story, but this time I'll have the full backing of the ABS news division." She hopped up and down on the sofa.

"Unless Lex has stock in ABS."

The smile left Lois' face and she stopped dancing. "He doesn't, does he?" she asked, nervous.

Clark laughed. "Let me check." He googled ABS, and found a list of their largest stockholders. Lex Luthor wasn't on it. Clark grinned. "You're clear."

Lois shrieked with joy and started jumping up and down again.

Clark grinned with her. "Hey, one other thing," he said, interrupting Lois' celebratory dance. "While you're in a good mood, I just wanted to let you know: Diana invited us to the Ambassadorial ball she's throwing at the Themiscyran Embassy. It's where she'll let the world know that about the League's plans."

Lois frowned. "Do we have to go?" she asked, hating the petulant tone in her voice.

"Yes," Clark said firmly. "We have to go." He understood Lois' feelings toward Diana. And truthfully, if the shoe were on the other foot, he'd probably feel the same as she did. That didn't really change things, though. It was what it was, but Clark also knew that he would never allow himself to act on the feelings he had for Diana. Sure, he occasionally wondered about what might have been, but whenever he saw Lois, spent time with her, saw that amazing spark of life and energy she had, he was glad to be with her. He loved her and that was enough. Besides, as his father had always explained to him: _Son, you've got to honor your commitments_._ It's the mark of a good man. _

"Fine," Lois pouted. "But I'm not going to this ball with Clark Kent, mild-mannered, sloppily dressed reporter. If I have to go, you're dressing to the nines. I want to show off my studcycle," she purred.

"If that's what it will take," Clark agreed. Sometimes Lois drove him insane. He could put up with that, though, if she thought he was a 'studcycle'.

"That's what it's going to take," Lois said, sounding satisfied.

"There was one other thing, Lois," Clark began. "I was thinking about what you said the other night. About how I forced celibacy on the both of us."

Lois looked at him, wearing a patient but confused expression. "What about it?" she asked.

"I can reverse what I did to myself," Clark said. "I can make myself vulnerable to kryptonite again if you want."

Lois' eyes teared up. "You would do that for me," she said in wonder. She came over to Clark, sitting in his lap. "I love you Clark Kent," she said, kissing him firmly on the mouth.

"So, do you want me to do it?" Clark asked, after a breathless moment. She really knew how to give a kiss.

Lois looked into Clark's eyes. She'd always loved them; so blue and pure. "No," she said, finally. "The world needs Superman."

"And what about you,"

"I need him too, but I wouldn't be the woman he loves if I took him from the world."

Clark smiled, kissing her as firmly as he dared. "You're a wonderful woman, Lois."

"Yes I know," she said. "But don't tell anyone." She sniffed. "I've got a rep to maintain."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Kal, can you take care of things while I get ready," Diana asked. "Bruce should be here soon."

Kal looked up from the computer screens. They were in the main control room of Watchtower, the night of the Ambassador's Ball, and they had monitor duty until they were relieved in the next hour or so. "No, go ahead. I've got things covered," he said. "But I thought J'onn was taking over tonight. Isn't Bruce your date for the ball?"

Diana sighed. "No. We broke up about three weeks ago."

"Oh. That's too bad," Clark said, not entirely sure if he really felt that way. He wanted Diana to be happy, and to have a loving relationship with someone special. He just didn't want it to be with Bruce.

Diana felt a need to explain herself. "With all the women that he dates as Bruce Wayne, the gossips and paparazzi would consider me just another trophy for his mantle. That's not a place I want to be." She frowned. "Truthfully, even though I knew Bruce Wayne isn't entirely who he is, dating him as Batman still made me deeply uncomfortable at times."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a complicated man, Kal, and he's had more than his share of women, as both Bruce Wayne and Batman." She shrugged. "I sometimes worried that I would be looked upon as another notch on the Batbelt. Selina, Zatanna, Vickie Vale, Poison Ivy, Barbara Gordon…"

"Alright, I think I get what you're trying to say," Kal said, gruffly cutting her off.

Diana looked at him, surprised by the waspish tone in his voice. She cocked her head in consideration. "You're not jealous are you, Kal?" she asked after a moment of thought.

Kal glanced at her, an uncertain expression on his face, as though he wasn't sure whether to answer her question or not. "Of course I am," he finally said. He saw her startled and disappointed expression and hurried on to explain. "I don't want to sleep with a whole bunch of women like that," he said. "It's just…" he frowned. "Now that I'm invulnerable to kryptonite, the market for women with whom I can actually be…intimate is pretty small."

Diana smiled wryly. "It seems we are both trapped by what sex would mean to us then. You because of you are and your power, and me because when I do so, I lose my immortality. Whoever I lose my virginity to must be a man with whom I will live the rest of my life. Otherwise, it's pointless."

Kal thought over her words and had an unwelcome reminder that Diana was one of the few women that he could safely sleep with. He hoped she hadn't realized that as well. "So who's your date?" he asked, more to change the subject than out of any real interest.

"I'm an Amazon, Kal. I don't strictly have to have one," she said. "And tonight, I don't." She turned to leave. "If any calls come from the embassy, just patch them through to my room," she called over her shoulder. Luckily her embassy staff probably had things under control and didn't need her to oversee the arrangements for the ball. She had worked hard to find competent people to fill all the roles that an embassy required. Finally, after five years of winnowing work, she had the people in place that could maintain the day-to-day operations of the embassy without her direct supervision. It had been Bruce's suggestion that she bring in her sister, Donna Troy, as the chief-of-staff. Donna's hiring had been a masterstroke, and knowing that she was at the embassy allowed Diana to more fully focus on her ambassadorial duties.

Diana hummed on her way to her room. It was something Kal had been listening to earlier. She remembered some of the lyrics, and sang them in her deep contralto:

_Dream of better lives the kind which never hate  
Dropped in the state of imaginary grace  
I made a pilgrimage to save this humans race  
What I'm comprehending a race that long gone bye_

I'll stop the world and melt with you  
You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time  
There's nothing you and I won't do  
I'll stop the world and melt with you

She smiled. The song reminded her of a conversation they had when she had almost died a few years back. He had said, _You can't die, Diana. I'd make time run backwards just to bring you back to life because I'd miss you so much._ Kal was such an old-fashioned romantic. He had always been there for her during all those turbulent months when she'd first come to the Patriarch's world. He had been her protector and her guide through the murky waters of the world outside of Themiscyra's gentle shores.

She took a quick shower and slipped into a sleeveless evening gown the same color as her eyes. It was paneled with red mesh along the sides, offering glimpses of the shape of her long legs and body. The gown hung from her left shoulder, clasped there by a large, red ruby broach in the shape of an orchid and cut so that it resembled the tunics and skirts commonly worn on Themiscyra. Her hair, with its natural thick curls, was pulled over to the side and cascaded over her right shoulder, a nice counterpoint to the broach. Around her waist was looped the Lariat of Hestia. Her jewelry was a simple a ruby necklace, set with diamonds, and a matching pair of ruby ear rings. No makeup was needed; what would be the point with features like hers?

She looked at herself in a full-length mirror, twirling around to ensure the gown hung properly. Acceptable.

She walked back to the monitor station. She found Kal-El standing by a window, staring down at the Earth.

He watched her approach, seeing her reflection in the view port he was looking through. He turned just as she arrived, hearing the calming percussion of her heartbeat. "You look lovely, Diana," he said.

She smiled, almost girlishly. "Thank you, Kal. You really like it? It's not too much?"

He swallowed. It still surprised him how this most beautiful of women didn't often see what was so obvious to everyone else. "No. It's perfect. I imagine almost every other woman at the ball will be envious of you."

She laughed, a soft bell like sound. "Now you're going to make me blush," she said.

"It's only the truth, Diana."

"Well, thank you again," she said before eyeing his uniform critically. "I think you'll have some explaining to do if you show up like that."

Kal glanced at his Kryptonian armor and grinned sheepishly. "I'll be back," he said, deepening his voice and adding an Austrian accent.

Diana turned her nose up. "Leave that line to the man who said it first," she advised.

Kal laughed. "Ok. How's this. After these messages…I'll be right back," he sang.

"Kal, what was that supposed to be?"

"A jingle from some Saturday morning cartoons I used to watch as a kid," he answered. "Be back in a jiff."

She hoped he would be dressed nicely since he was going to be there as Clark Kent. As Clark, he was often dressed in overly large, floppish clothes, and pranced and bumbled around like a meek and clumsy oaf. She hated seeing him like that. Her Kal should never have to diminish himself like that.

A few minutes later, he returned. He was wearing his Clark Kent persona, but for once his clothes fit him perfectly. He wore a smoky-grey boldly pin-striped suit with a stiff, white shirt. Diana could see ruby links through the French cuffs, and she briefly wondered how he had afforded them. They looked expensive. His feet tapped with every step he took, and she noticed that he was wearing yellow-black snakeskin dress shoes and a matching belt. Very stylish.

"You look nice, Kal, but no tie?" Diana asked, pointing out a missing element.

Kal blushed. "I wasn't sure which one to wear," he said, gesturing to the three ties he was holding. "What do you think?"

"I think you should check with _Lois_," she said, emphasizing his girlfriend's name.

Kal looked at her pleadingly. "Please, Di. I could really use the help. Lois already thinks I'm hopeless when it comes to clothes as it is. I'd like to impress her for once."

"Fine. Let me see them," she relented. Diana tapped her lips with a forefinger. "The red is too obvious." She crinkled her nose in distaste. "And too aggressive for this type of gathering." She glanced at the other two ties. "The yellow is too brash." She glanced at Kal. "Clark Kent can't pull it off. "That leaves the blue. It's bright and vibrant and matches your eyes," she said. "Of course no one can see those beautiful peepers behind those ugly glasses you insist on wearing, but I'd still go with that one." She brushed aside his unruly lock and sighed. "And you'll have to do something about that as well."

His eyes rolled upward, and he looked ridiculous, standing there and trying to see the aberrant hair, but he knew what she meant. "Oops. Better fix that. I've got some hair gel in my room."

"Just bring it here, Kal," Diana said. "If I leave it to you, you'll make a mess of it. For once, let's have Clark Kent look presentable, shall we," she said, sounding exasperated.

He grinned at her. "I was hoping you'd help me out."

"Honestly, Kal, you are so helpless." He had already gone. "Hera, that's annoying," she muttered just as he suddenly re-appeared.

"Which is why I have you." At her puzzled look, he added, "Superspeed. Super hearing, remember? I heard what you said."

"Oh." Diana blinked. Sometimes she forgot just how gifted he truly was. She reconsidered her previous words before deciding they had been accurate. "Well, it's true: you are helpless."

He bent low, making it easier for her to apply the gel. He had thoughtfully brought her a towel, and she cleaned the goop off her hands after finishing with his hair.

"Let's have the tie," she said. "You'll probably foul that up, too," she muttered under her breath.

He held still, enjoying the delicate aroma of orchids that seemed to be her natural scent. He surreptitiously inhaled. He'd always loved the smell of her. He heard her heart start to quicken and wondered at it. She was standing so close. Just an upturn of the face and…he squashed those emotions, forcing himself to not feel them.

"There. You look wonderful," she said, smoothing his tie and his shirt. She looked up at his curiously blank face. "Is something wrong?"

"Bruce will be here in five seconds."

"Bruce? How…?"

"I just heard the mass converter for the teleporter kick on."

Just then Bruce Wayne materialized. "Am I interrupting something," he asked, his voice decidedly neutral.

Kal turned around and smiled. "Diana was just helping with my tie."

"I see," Bruce answered, his voice still unnaturally inflectionless.

Diana stepped around Kal. "Can you transport us to the Embassy?" she asked

"Both of you?"

"Yeah. I told Lois I'd meet her there," Kal answered.

"Certainly." Batman said. "Have a good time."

"Hope things stay quiet for you."

"There you are, Clark," Lois said. She eyed him appreciatively. "Very nice, Smallville. You clean up real good when you have to."

"Thanks, Lois," Clark answered, walking over to her and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "You look great," he said, holding her out at arms length and looking her up and down. She was a wearing a form-fitting black evening gown, with a long slit up the side. Clark couldn't help but catch glances of her legs, which he'd always thought were very nice. She was wearing her favorite shade of red lipstick and had on a large pearl necklace with matching ear rings.

Lois smiled, pleased at his attention. "Thank you, Clark." She patted his cheek. "If you're nice, I'll even let you see more when we get home."

"I could just see through your clothes right now if I wanted."

"You could, but what would be the fun in that?" she asked. "Patience is a virtue." She turned toward the sound of applause. "Looks like Wonder Chick is going to be giving a speech," she said. "Can you hold this, honey. I want to be at the front when she starts," she said, handing Clark her wineglass.

"Sure, go ahead. I've already heard the speech a few times."

"I'm sure you have, dear, but you weren't likely to have asked her the tough questions." She steeled herself, inhaling sharply. "Now watch and learn how a true reporter does it."

Clark wandered around, noticing that many of the local papers and several of the national papers, along with TV media were here. They had their microphones and cameras and lights all aimed toward a raised platform. Diana stood to the side, waiting for J'onn to introduce her. It would be she who would let the world know of the League's plans.

He spoke with a few guests; most of them taking him for a bodyguard of some sort given his build and his carriage. For once, as Clark Kent, he wasn't slouching, dropping things, fumbling with his glasses, or in any other way acting like a dolt. Occasionally, he listened in on Diana's speech. The audience seemed shocked at the mercenary turn in the nature of the League. They quieted somewhat when they saw how much money it cost to run the Watchtower and the other League affiliated programs. They were further muted when they saw, displayed on the screen, the savings in terms of lives and property that could be directly attributable to the League's actions. They were completely silent when the additional savings of lives through second stage disaster relief, such as food and medical distribution, search and rescue, and reconstruction efforts were enumerated.

The League was one of the great humanitarian organizations in the world, but, it did need a funding source to be able to continue to do its work. The goal, as Diana explained, was to allow the League to continue to its mission, and do so without undue political interference, which wasn't really possible when it had to answer to the U.S. Congress and other national parliaments.

The audience seemed to accept the League's premise, but Diana and J'onn still had to answer some very sharp and difficult questions.

Clark was proud to note that Lois couched her questions as didactically and non-confrontationally as possible. That hadn't always been the case. In the past, her rough approach had alienated a lot of people, and they tended to clam up whenever they saw her coming. This had led to her having to take obscene risks to get the story (and Superman having to save her bacon time and time again). Now, while she still asked the hard questions, she did so in a fairly respectful tone, and wonder-of-wonders, she actually got answers.

Clark smiled. He must be rubbing off on her.

The mini-presser ended, and Clark saw the crowd dissipate, heading for the bar and the buffet table. Lois was still at it, though. She had J'onn cornered and was asking him some follow-up questions.

"Mr. Kent, I didn't see you at the briefing," a melodious voice observed. He turned.

"Hello Madame Ambassador. I'm honored you remembered my name. Shocked actually," he said. "I'm just a lowly beat reporter."

"Mr. Kent, we both know you aren't a lowly anything," Diana said, smiling. She gestured at his clothes with the glass of fruit juice she was holding. "Your suit looks nice on you," she observed. "Very dashing."

Clark smiled. "Why thank you, Madame Ambassador. And I must say, you are even more stunning than usual."

Diana laughed. "Did your father gift you with that silver tongue?"

Clark laughed with her. "My mother wouldn't think so."

"I think I may have heard something to that effect as well," Diana said, smiling over the rim of her glass before looking him up and down again. "Truly, Mr. Kent, I really am impressed with how well you look tonight. The few other times I've seen you, your suits were so voluminous and ill-fitting, almost as though they were costumes. You're much too handsome a man to hide yourself like that."

"Thanks. I think," he said, sounding somewhat puzzled. "Sometimes you have to hide, though, just to get by."

"Oh?"

"Consider the Green Lantern, or the Flash, or Batman; they all wear costumes and masks. It's part of their identity."

"With those men, do you think that their superhero affectations are the essence of their true selves?"

"I suppose so."

"And what of you then. Is this Clark Kent simply a mask? This dashing handsome man, who moves with assurance and ease amongst the powerful. Or are you really the mild-mannered clumsy reporter, who is often slovenly dressed."

Clark smiled, enjoying his conversation with Diana."It is lucky you don't have to worry about those kind of considerations, Ambassador," he said.

"Oh, I do," she answered. "I have many roles to play: I am an Ambassador from a mythical nation; a superhero, loved in some countries and loathed in almost all Arab ones; I am a daughter and a Princess; but before all this, I am a woman."

Clark's lips quirked. "It sounds extremely…taxing."

Diana smiled. His unruly lock of hair had fallen out of place, and she unconsciously reached up to brush it back, stopping herself at the last moment. "You haven't answered my question," she said. "Is the bumbling reporter the essence of who you are?"

Clark considered her words. "Sometimes," he said.

"Never," she responded instantly. "I know you too well, Kal" she said, smiling. "_This_ suitfits you. In it, you appear as who you have and always will be: a man of consequence. Never forget that."

She was standing very close to him, her usual pattern. Other than Lois, he never let anyone else this far inside his personal space. He had grown so used to this facet of their relationship, that he hardly even noticed it anymore. Now, he became aware of it as he felt the gawking stares and whispers of the paparazzi. Their cameras were starting to come up as they began speculating on just what the beautiful Amazonian Ambassador was doing standing so close to the anonymous guy in the suit, having what looked like a real heart-to-heart.

He stepped back from her, and gave her a short bow. "To your health, Ambassador," he said, in a voice not meant to carry, but knowing it would anyway. He raised his glass of water. "And thank you for answering my questions."

"You're welcome, Mr. Kent," she answered, coolly, instantly understanding the reason for his sudden withdrawal.

Lois had also witnessed the exchange, and she was not happy. That slutty bitch! How dare she try to nose in on her man like that. Lois was sure that the _Ambassador's _jiggling laugh was simply meant to show off her tits. That hussy would be learned real quick that Clark Kent was not on the market. If the slutty Amazon wanted him, she'd have to go through Lois to get him because if there was one thing Lois Lane was, it was that she was a fighter. She smiled grimly. Besides, Clark had already chosen Lois, and she knew what was hers.

She went to track Clark down, and let the world see exactly where the two of them stood. Her steps slowed as she considered the situation. Some of the anger started to leach out. Clark and Diana spent a lot of time with one another, and yet, he had never once given her reason to suspect there might be something going on between them. He was _Clark_, for heaven's sake. Strong, safe, and dependable. Did she really have anything to fear from Diana?

Still, it was nauseating to watch how close he allowed the Wonder Bitch into his personal space. Clark was very fastidious about that kind of thing. He hadn't looked uncomfortable in the least that this gorgeous Amazon, the wetdream of many a pubertal boy, had been close enough for him to kiss without hardly moving his head. What did that say about them?

She glanced at the Ambassador. If only the woman were stupid. Then Lois could have felt a sense of smug superiority over the ditsy Amazon. _Looks could take you a long way with a man, sweetheart, but it couldn't carry you the distance._ Unfortunately, Diana was extremely intelligent. She'd just proven it earlier with her mini-presser, handling every question thrown her way with aplomb and quiet confidence. Just look at her: grace just seemed to ooze off of her. Lois gritted her teeth. Another reason to dislike the bitch.

She noticed that the Ambassador would occasionally glance away from whoever she was talking to. It didn't happen often, but it happened enough that Lois began looking to where the Wonder Bitch's gaze kept wandering. She was looking at Clark! Dammit! Now that was going too far. Friendship, even if it was all weird and way too close for Lois' comfort was one thing, but stalking her boyfriend, even if only visually was an entirely different matter and completely unacceptable. Not at all.

Music was playing and the dance floor was open. Lois stalked over to Clark. "Smallville, let's dance," she demanded.

Clark quirked an eyebrow. "Something wrong, Lois?" he asked. "You never call me 'Smallville' like that unless you're mad about something."

Lois debated whether to tell him about her feelings about Diana. She vacillated, but eventually decided not to. He'd just get mad at her and defend the Princess_. _Lois smoothed her face of the anger and jealousy she still felt seething inside. "No. I just thought with both of us dressed up like this, we shouldn't waste the opportunity."

"You know I'm can't dance, Lois," Clark said. "Not in public."

Lois locked her hands around his neck. "I know how you really move, Clark. I know the grace you have. Dance for me? Please?" she asked, incentivizing her question with a lingering kiss that drew smirks and guffaws. Lois hoped that Wonder Broad had seen them. _He's mine, bitch. Just back right off._

Clark came up for air and smiled. "Sure. Let's dance," he said.

He led her to the dance floor, and they waited for the next song, a waltz. Lois lost the anger she had been feeling as Clark led her in the dance. He guided them across the floor, all grace and controlled power. He focused on her, looking into her eyes, and smiling contentedly. Despite not seeming to notice anyone else at all, he deftly averted collisions with any other couples, avoiding them easily. He was smooth. She loved being held like this: so safe and protected in his arms.

A few of their colleagues nudged each other, in obvious shock. Clark Kent had always been so shy and reserved…so _boring. _On top of that, he was about the clumsiest oaf in the city. But, tonight, on the floor, holding Lois, who was an accomplished dancer in her own right, he was liquid. So subtle and sure. A few women muttered that seeing how handsome he was when properly dressed and watching him float through the waltz, they could understand what Lois saw in him.

The danced ended, and Lois' eyes shone. "Thank you, Clark," she said, her good mood restored. "I never realized you could dance like that."

Clark grinned. "Chloe taught me when I took her to spring formal one year," he said.

Lois laughed. "That's ok then," she said. "If it had been anyone other than my cousin, I might have gotten a little jealous."

"Like if it had been Diana," Clark teased.

Lois' face reddened. "That's not funny, Clark," she said, some of her earlier anger fluttering back to life.

"I know you think I don't notice things, but I saw how you were staring daggers at her," Clark said. "Was it because of how close she was to me earlier tonight?"

Lois glanced down and nodded mutely, not trusting her voice. She hated when someone could read her so easily.

He tilted her chin up. "I chose you, Lois," he said. "That means something when you're a Kent. You have no reason to fear Diana."

Lois looked at Clark, not sure how she'd gotten so lucky to have found him. Once more, she locked her arms around his neck. "And you don't ever regret being with plain old me when you could be with Miss Goddess over there?"

"No," Clark answered, infusing conviction into his voice. It wasn't completely true, but there was enough truth in it that Lois wouldn't notice the small deception.

Lois smiled. "Good," she purred, moving to kiss Clark again. Just then, she noticed Diana walking toward the balcony. She was alone. "Hold that thought, honey," she said, pressing a finger to Clark's lips. "There's someone I want to talk to."

Lois hustled toward Diana, wanting to catch her alone and speak to her. She caught the Wonder Babe a few yards short of the doors. "Wonderful party, Princess," she said, a false smile plastered on her face.

"Thank you, Miss Lane," Diana said. "I saw you dancing earlier with Mr. Kent. The two of you make a lovely couple."

Lois eyed her for a moment before coming to a decision. "Do you love my boyfriend?" she asked in the bluntest tone she could muster.

Diana frowned for a moment. How dare this woman be so bold. Did the little pest actually seek to brag that she had Kal? Graceless tart. Kal was his own man. Not some prize to be fought over. He deserved better. Diana smiled frostily. "Your boyfriend is an absent-minded reporter, who is somewhat of a buffoon," she answered. At Lois' look of outrage, she continued. "I am sorry if my words hurt you, but that is the public perception of Clark Kent. So in answer to your question: no, I don't love your boyfriend."

Lois looked like she'd just been slapped. She blinked, gathering her thoughts and wanting to get in a good comeback. "Good. In that case, you won't mind staying away from him," she said in a soft growl. "Stop making eyes at him. Stop touching him. He's not yours and he never will be."

Diana drew herself up to her full height and stared at Lois down the length of her proud nose. "You are right: unless the Fates will otherwise, it is very unlikely that Kal and I will ever be together, at least in this lifetime. But, he is in my life as my dearest friend, and that is enough for me. I am content. You though," here Diana gave Lois a withering look of contempt. "You are not worthy of him. He is too good for you. For seven years, the two of you worked together, almost daily, but you never even sought to see past his blindingly obvious façade to notice the good and decent man underneath. You were blinded by Superman and still are. That is not all there is to Kal. He is so much more."

"His name is Clark," Lois hissed, not liking that she seemed to be losing this argument. It had gone so much better in her head when she'd come over here to confront Diana.

"Call him what you will. A rose is still a rose by any other name."

"So you do love him then," Lois said, trying to get in a dig.

Diana considered her question, a look of disdain on her face. What a fool this Lois Lane was. "Are you truly so insecure in his feelings for you? How pathetic. You don't know him at all."

Lois ground her teeth. "Just answer the question."

Diana glanced over Lois' shoulder, seeking Kal. He was so beautiful. Why couldn't the Fates have been kind for once? She turned back to the little harpy. "Yes. I love him. I love him in all the ways a woman can love a man," she said. "And I will never have him. Happy now?" she asked in an arch and unexpectedly bitter tone. What a miserable wretch this woman was. "Miss Lane, let me fill you in on the reality of my relationship with Kal. He is my best friend, and I am his. If I tried to seduce him away from you and failed, our friendship would immediately end. If I seduced him and succeeded, a part of him will hate me forever for demonstrating what a weak and ordinary man he truly is. It would destroy his self-image." She shook her head. "I love him too much to do either of those things to him." She turned and walked away before Lois could respond.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The capsule had sighted on its target. It entered the atmosphere at a speed of twenty-five thousand miles per hour. It was too small to be seen by any of the space defense telescopes littered in Earth's high orbit, and even Watchtower's sensors had been unable to pick it up.

The capsule exploded above the Adirondack hamlet of Old Forge, a blast that could be heard all the way to Pennsylvania. Trees for over twenty miles in every direction were flattened and burnt by the shockwave and heat. Smoke billowed into the air, a towering mushroom cloud that could be seen for miles around.

A holocaust had been visited upon one of the most scenic and peaceful areas of the United States. And within the heart of it, standing in the violet and yellow flames; immune to the heat and devastation around him, stood a beast standing tall and fearsome. He was a grey-skinned, ivory-spiked demon with pitiless malice and cruelty burning in his red eyes, and in his heart was an all-consuming lust for murder and genocide.

Doomsday had come to America.

****

Clark wasn't sure why Lois had been so cool to him after Diana's party. She sometimes ran hot and cold like that. This time, though, he was sure it had something to do with the talk he'd seen the Lois and Diana engaged in. It had looked pretty heated on Lois' part whereas, to all outward appearances, Diana had seemed cool and unperturbed. Clark knew better. Diana had been furious. If Lois wouldn't discuss things with him, then maybe Diana would. He planned on talking to her after today's meeting of the League. They were getting together to discuss their next step after Diana's ball and the public announcement of the League's intentions.

"Where's all the food," Wally complained, stepping into the conference room. "I'm starving, and I know I left an extra twelve piece from KFC in the fridge yesterday."

"Was that yours?" Hal asked. He pulled a bucket of chicken out from under the table for Wally to see. He grinned broadly as he pulled out a breast, shamelessly waving it about like a flag. Just as he and was about to take a bite, both bucket and breast were gone.

"Too slow," Wally said, licking his fingers and tossing the last of the chicken pieces back into the bucket.

"Not quite," Hal said, pulling out another bucket. "I knew that one was yours. This one's mine."

Wally stared at the chicken as though hypnotized. "Yum," he said.

Once more, the Lantern waved a breast like a flag, and again, as he was about to take a bite, Wally blurred. The Flash smashed into a thin, green wall, almost invisible unless you were prepared to look for it. "Ow. Hey. No fair. You're not supposed to use your ring like that."

Hal grinned, and a moment later, he was chagrinned. "Where's my bucket," he complained. He glared at the Flash.

"It wasn't me," Wally protested.

"That chicken is really good," Batman said. The other two Leaguers looked over at Bruce, who had the bucket propped between his arms and was finishing off a leg. "I needed that." He smiled, guilelessly.

Wally thought he was going to have a heart attack. Had Batman just played a practical joke?

Bruce's smile suddenly faded. "What the…" His arms jerked aside, and suddenly the bucket was gone again. Batman glared at Superman. "You lasered me," he accused.

"I couldn't have gotten the bucket any other way since you had a microwave discharger pressed up against it." Supes said, polishing off his fourth piece of chicken. "If it had gone off, the whole bird would have been burnt."

Wally started laughing. Supes had just one-upped old Bats.

"Here," Clark said, pushing the bucket to the middle of the table. "You two can fight over the rest."

Just then, Shayera walked in. Her nose turned up at the sight of the food. "Eating chicken is disgusting," she proclaimed.

"Yeah, you could say it's fowl," Wally said, chuckling at his own humor and Shayera's groan of annoyance.

"Don't worry, Shay, I brought you something," Clark said, pushing a couple of boxes into the center of the table. "The Thai food is for Diana. The Indian grub is for you."

Just then Diana came in. Her face split into a smile at the sight of the Pad Thai: her favorite.

"Good. Now that everyone's here, let's get started," Clark began. "We've got a lot to cover from the ball…"

Just then, the claxons started blaring. Flash and Superman blurred, getting to the monitor station just as J'onn was floating up through the floor. The Martian positioned himself in front of the consoles.

"What is that?" Wally asked, pointing at the grey-skinned behemoth.

Clark's face was ashen.

"Do you know who this is, Superman?" J'onn asked, noticing Clark's sudden apprehension.

Clark shook his head. "No," he said. Something about the creature scared him though. Fear was generally a foreign emotion to him. He'd never been scared of anything or anybody before, but this creature, the sight of it set off primal flight reflexes in him. He had no idea why. A name surfaced from the recesses of his mind. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. "His name is Doomsday," Clark said in a whisper. "He'll destroy the world."

J'onn turned sharply, facing Superman. He had never known Kal-El to be afraid.

By then, the other members of the League had arrived.

Clark forced the fear down. He would deal with it later. Right now, he knew what was needed. "J'onn, we're all going to need to teleport right to that monster's co-ordinates," he said. "Put out a call for help from whichever of the Five Hundred is nearby, on our side or not. We'll need every one of them. Contact the authorities, even the Five Hundred in prison, if they fight, their sentences will be commuted."

"You know who this is?" Batman asked.

"No," Clark said. "I've never seen him before, but his name is Doomsday. And he terrifies me. Something in my genetic memory. He's death to us all unless we can take him down right now, before he gets his bearings."

"You're sure?" Diana asked, her hand resting on Kal's shoulder. She'd never seen him like this. It frightened her.

"I'm sure," he answered.

"Make the call," Batman said. He checked a flashing light on the console. "Damn," he swore softly. "We won't be able to teleport," he said. "It's offline." He typed a few commands into the computer, analyzing the problem. "A blown reformation coil when Wally beamed in." He glared at Wally. "You were trying to count the particles during your re-materialization, weren't you?"

Wally blushed. "I didn't think it would blow the whole pad," he said. "Sorry, Bats."

"Never mind that right now. Take the Javelin, all of you. On the way down, you can make the calls to whoever you need to," Superman ordered. "Let's go people." His voice was a whip.

"What about you, Kal?" Diana asked.

"I can get there faster than the Javelin," Kal answered.

Diana had an ominous sense of foreboding. "Be careful, Kal," she said, kissing him deep and sweet on the lips. She didn't care what everyone else thought. It was something she had to do: to feel his kiss just once. "I love you," she whispered to his retreating back, so softly that she doubted even he could have heard her.

"The monster's moving," J'onn said. He's leaping, about fifteen miles per jump."

"Saddle up, League," Batman said, leading them to the hangar.

"I can get there faster, too," Hal said, once they arrived at the Javelin.

Shayera kissed him. "Save some for the rest of us," she said.

"Roger that," Hal said with a crooked grin. He activated his ring and cycled through the airlock. His green form rapidly diminished.

The remaining League members filed into the Javelin, and took their seats. J'onn powered up the spaceplane, and they floated free of the station. J'onn let gravity pull them toward the Earth, giving small thrusts now and then to correct their fall and move them faster.

"We're at half a click," Shayera said from her co-pilot's seat. "Safe distance."

"Going to full burn," J'onn said over the intercom. He engaged the rockets at maximum thrust, and they were smashed back into their seats by the heavy g's.

Wally was shouting. "Get geeked! Come on! Bring it mother fucker!" Suddenly, blaring over the speakers, _Song 2_ by Blur.

"Why the hell does he always have to do that," Batman muttered.

"It's his way of getting himself ready for battle," Diana answered.

"And is your way to kiss Clark?" Batman asked, a cutting edge to his voice.

Diana turned to face him. "We have a mission, Bruce. Kal says that it will take all our strength, all our efforts to defeat this thing," she said. "Let's just focus on the task at hand and talk about it later."

"The mission is who I am," Bruce replied coldly. "I'm just surprised by how quickly you jumped from my bed to his," Bruce said. "Does Clark know how easily he can be replaced?"

Almost reflexively, and before she could reconsider her actions, Diana backhanded Batman across the face, nearly slapping him unconscious. "This isn't about you," she glared. "And I was never yours or in your bed." A moment later, the enormity of what she did struck her. What was wrong with her? She usually had much better control of her emotions than this. That sense of foreboding was rising, and she felt a hollowing in her stomach. Something terrible was going to happen today. "I'm…I'm sorry, Bruce. Please forgive me," she said, her face ashen. She unbuckled her straps and moved to the front of the plane. "Tell me the moment we're in atmosphere," she said.

"We're there now, at the very edge," J'onn said. "Give it another five minutes, and you should be able to eject."

"Thank you," Diana said, patting J'onn on the shoulder.

"We have visuals," Shayera said.

"Bring it up on all monitors. We all need to see what's going on," Diana ordered. "And turn that damn music off."

"I don't see either of them," Shayera said, sounding worried. "Where the hell are they?"

Appearing in a streak of green was Hal. Flying in a bubble of energy, he extended his ring's power into a scythe, swinging it at Doomsday's feet. The monster braced himself, letting the scythe smash into his ankles and disintegrate. He hadn't even budged. Hal changed tactics, forming a shape that looked like a hammer and moved to hammer Doomsday. Before he could do so, though, the beast anticipated him. The monster leaped into the air and punched the green shape before it hit him, causing it fall apart in a cascade of sparks. Hal formed a lasso and tried to rope the demon, but Doomsday was too fast. He caught the cord of energy, and with a jerk, Hal was suddenly within the circle of his arms. Doomsday grinned wickedly as he strained the limits of Hal's power ring.

"NO!" Shayera cried.

Just as it seemed the ring would give way, and Hal would be crushed, Superman appeared. Dried blood caked his face. He looked pissed. He plowed into Doomsday, forcing him to release Hal. Clark took the beast straight up, all the way to the mesosphere, ignoring the punches raining down on his back. The rest of the League actually saw him blaze past the Javelin, the turbulence of his flight buffeting the spaceplane. Superman pivoted in mid-air, and was now rocketing back toward the ground, even faster than he had motored up to the sky. He and Doomsday were a blur as, once more, they passed the Javelin. Vicious elbows from Clark and point blank heat vision, and he was free of Doomsday.

The monster was moving at Mach 5 when he smashed into the ground. Another mushroom cloud was raised by his impact. The team waited for the smoke and air to clear, and a few moments later, when it did, they saw Doomsday rising, shaking his head as though to clear it.

"Damn, that mother humper's strong," Wally whispered.

Hal moved in on the injured beast.

"We're there," J'onn announced.

"I'm out," Diana said. "Everyone strap in and grab your oxygen. I'm opening the hatch." She waited a moment to make sure everyone was tied down and had their masks on. She opened the hatch, and let the depressurization pull her out. Quickly, she matched speeds with the Javelin and readied her lasso. She roped the nose of the spaceplane, pulling on it so that she was slingshotted forward, accelerating even faster now.

_Newton's Third Law was immensely useful, _she thought, as she barreled toward the battle. She could see it clearly now.

Hal was exchanging blows with the beast, taking the worst of it. Damn it! He was out of the fight, the monster having clocked him and blasting him twenty miles away.

Hera! Did Kal even have that kind of power?

Grimly, she set aside the worry and piled on the speed.

****

Clark heard her heartbeat, pounding hard with adrenaline. She was seven miles away, racing in at a little over Mach 3. She'd be here in seconds. He hit Doomsday with his heat vision, causing the monster to flinch and throw his hands up to protect his head. The distraction worked. The monster never saw Diana coming, hidden as she was by Clark's body. At the last second, Clark twirled away like a matador, and Diana raced by him, the shock collar at her waist hiding her armored star-spangled skirt.

She hit Doomsday with the power of a lightning bolt, and a bass bell-like peal rumbled outward from their impact, causing Clark's hair to blow behind him. He paused for a moment, looking as only he could, through the smoke and dust and debris. Diana had Doomsday straddled and was raining punches on the monster. She'd plowed the beast into a half-mile long furrow with her thunder run impact.

Clark raced forward, arriving just as Doomsday threw Diana off of him. He spun around, as fast as Clark himself could move, getting ready to face the Man of Steel. Clark stopped just short of Doomsday's reach, letting the wind from his flight raise a cloud of dust, blinding the beast. But Clark could see just fine. Again, at point blank range, he hit Doomsday with his heat vision, smiling in grim satisfaction at the beast's cry of pain. He poured it on, and just then Hal arrived, back in the fight.

Hal formed another hammer and beat Doomsday down, pounding him into the ground like a nail.

The monster turned away from his tormenters, and his animal cunning allowed him to see an escape. He leaped free of Hal and Clark's barrage, toward the still downed Diana. He landed right next to her, making it impossible for Hal to continue to pound him. He reached down, plucking Diana by her neck and held her in front of him as a shield. Clark had to let his heat vision die.

The monster smiled, but a second later grimaced when Diana chopped his wrists, breaking his grip. She grabbed his still outstretched arms, fell backward, and pulled him up and over her, flinging him from her.

Three miles the monster flew. He twisted in the air, turning so that he remained facing his enemies. Catlike, he landed on his feet and slid to a stop.

He gestured to them, a universal sign: _'Bring it on'_.

Hal was the first to reach him, throwing thunder with his ring, but Doomsday absorbed it and seemed amused. He rushed forward when he saw Hal flying too low, the monster leapt and nailed Hal with a two-handed hammer fist. As Hal stumbled away, Doomsday followed closely, feinting with a punch before spinning and hitting Hal with a near lethal backhand elbow. Hal crumpled, and the beast took a short jump straight up, and landed on the Lantern's extended leg, snapping it. Another crushing elbow, and Hal was down, his green light flickering out.

Doomsday smiled, ready to apply the deathblow when Diana tackled him. She juked and moved, evading the monster's blow. She threw her own heavy leather, blasting him back and opening up a cut on his forehead; one which she was disheartened to note healed almost instantly. She floated in the air, with the beauty and power of an avenging angel. Her hair floated about her like a halo.

Clark arrived, and together they pounded away at Doomsday, bouncing him between them like a pinball. The monster seemed dazed, but Diana waited a split second too long, and it was all the time the beast needed. He jumped toward her, concussing her away with what the rest of the world called a 'Superman punch'. Diana was sent flying, like she'd been shot from a missile tube, cratering into a shale hill, pulverizing it, and plowing through all the way to the other side. A large part of the rocky slope slid down, crushing her under its weight.

Clark gasped, hoping she was alright and relieved when he heard her heart still beating strongly. He cracked his knuckles and swept forward. He stood toe-to-toe, trading blows that shook the ground all around. He spit blood from his mouth, his face getting bruised. He felt an eye starting to swell shut, and he knew he couldn't take the creature this way. Doomsday was just as strong as Clark and seemed to heal even more quickly.

Clark shook his head, the last punch from the beast having rattled his cage a bit. Doomsday shot in, seeking to take Clark down, but instead, caught a faceful of heat vision for his troubles. The monster swung a massive right hook, but Superman moved with the punch, catching it on his shoulder before circling and firing off three jackhammer jabs; the impact sounded like rock splitting. Doomsday followed Clark's motion, trying to get Superman to engage as he had before. The monster shot forward, and got a knee in the face and the body. Doomsday landed on his ass, a surprised grunt escaping his lips. Clark closed the distance, getting the beast in a tight Muai-Thai clinch, landing knee after knee to Doomsday's unprotected head. Doomsday was ready to go down, but at the last instant, he landed a head butt, followed by a crushing over-hand left that piledrove Clark forty feet into the ground, trapping him in a granite core.

Doomsday stood at the edge of the hole, pondering how to get to his opponent, when suddenly fresh enemies appeared.

The League had arrived. The Flash blurred to near light speed, driving straight into Doomsday and sending him hurtling backward. Wally bent over at the waist and peered down into the hole. "You ok, Supes."

Clark looked up, seeing the familiar red of his friend. "Don't turn your back on him, Wally. He's just as fast and strong as me."

Wally glanced to where Doomsday was slowing lumbering to his feet. "Gotcha in one." He tipped a non-existent hat. "Get your slow ass outta that hole, Kent. We need you back in the game," he said as he raced away.

Doomsday saw the speedster coming to him, and he grinned. This one wasn't strong. Doomsday could tell. A hard crack to the back of his head wiped the smirk from his face.

Shayera had her mace raised for another blow. He would pay for every one of Hal's hurts. Shayera had silently made that vow while watching the Lantern go down.

The monster spun, impossibly fast, and Shayera gasped. She was too close. The beast caught her next blow on his forearm, and took her own mace from her.

Just as he was about to club her with it, a series of sharp blasts hit him, all over his head and back. The beast spun around again, searching for the insect that dared try to harm him. There he was. He took a lurching step, and was suddenly face down, his feet entangled by a thin cord.

"Brains over brawn," Batman said, smiling. Inside, though, he was worried. This thing had taken out both Hal and Diana while simultaneously fighting Clark. Those were the League's big three. Batman manned up. He'd faced worst odds. "Come on 'roid rage. Let's dance."

The beast quickly threw off its binding, and in a single motion, amazingly graceful for something of its size, it roared to its feet, throwing Shayera's mace at Batman, apparently hitting him in the chest.

Of course, Batman wasn't Batman if he wasn't a few steps ahead of his superpowered enemies. The beast had hit nothing but an illusion. Batman was cloaked and hidden. The beast's confusion gave Shayera time to regain her mace.

Again, Batman threw every form of explosive he could think of at Doomsday. Nothing caused so much as a scratch or a stumble. Even poison pellets, filled with drugs that could have put down an elephant, did nothing. The monster didn't so much as hiccup.

With a cry, Shayera turned and charged. Wally came in at a right angle, planning on hitting Doomsday at the same time as Hawkgirl.

The beast altered their plans. It couldn't see Batman, but it could smell him. The creature rushed Shayera, evading a blow from her mace, and with his opposite hand, he gripped a wing. A sickening crack could be heard as Doomsday broke her wing and cast her aside, throwing her into Batman. Both of them went down in a heap.

As he was falling, Bruce felt a sharp twinge, followed by the sound of dry twigs snapping. He'd just blown several ligaments in his right knee. Several ribs were probably cracked also. He cried out in anger more than pain. He grimaced. Fuck that. He wasn't out of the fight yet.

Wally changed directions, not wanting to take that thing on when the monster was ready for him.

J'onn appeared, trying to get into the beast's mind. No fear. No hope. No dreams. All the monster had was cold rage and a near orgasmic pleasure in killing. There was nothing there for J'onn to work with. With a dismayed gasp, J'onn broke the connection. As the Manhunter tried to get his bearings, Doomsday hurled a large boulder at him, almost the size of a car. It caught J'onn full in the face and knocked him head-over-heels backwards, straight into Batman, who was only now slowing rising back to his feet, aching for a second crack at the colossus.

As J'onn crashed into him, Bruce's vision faded, but he had enough presence to understand what had just happened. "Shit! Now I've got a concussion," he muttered, just before passing out.

Wally blurred forward, racing around the monster and circling so fast that he sucked out all the oxygen within the cyclone he was forming. It didn't so much as cause Doomsday to gasp. The creature couldn't see Wally since the Flash was moving too fast, but he knew where Wally would be.

With a sickening thud, he drove his armored fist straight into Wally's ribs, flinging him away. Wally landed in a heap, moaning in pain. He could hardly breathe, and a warm wetness flowed under his uniform. He collapsed and lay still, hoping and praying that Supes would take the monster down before it killed them all.

Clark finally broke free of the hole he'd been punched into. His armor was a mess, and his face a mass of bruises. He flew fast and low, his heat vision bouncing off Doomsday's arms and torso. The speed of Superman's passage bent the billowing smoke, leaving it to trail after him like a curtain. He stopped suddenly, and used the same trick he'd used earlier to blind Doomsday; letting the smoke and dirt fly into the monster's face, blinding the beast him but leaving Clark well able to see.

The creature stumbled out of the smoke, and upon seeing Clark, tried to bull rush him. Doomsday ended up getting taken down himself. Clark got into full mount, and from there transitioned into an armbar, letting that go after feeling Doomsday's strength. He locked in a modified kimura, snapping Doomsday's forearm and also tearing ligaments in the monster's shoulder.

Doomsday howled in pain, his anger making him stronger. He threw Superman aside and fled, needing time and distance to heal.

****

William Johnson laughed at the antics of his grandson, little Will, his namesake. The boy had just turned a year old and was still unsteady on his feet. That didn't stop the little guy, though. He waddled and stumbled as fast as he could, his short, stubby arms held outstretched to the side for additional balance. "Kathy, come here and take look at him," he said, calling to his wife. Little Will carefully walked toward an unsuspecting and sleeping Luke, the family mutt, an amiable mix of lab and golden retriever. Old Luke was used to little children. Will bent to pluck at one of Luke's ears, and over-balanced, he fell, sitting heavily on Luke's face.

Luke sat up with a start, knocking Will over. Upon hearing the baby begin to cry, Luke very carefully slurped his sloppy wet tongue all over Will's face. That only served to make the baby cry even louder.

William laughed, while his wife playfully batted at the back of his head. "It's not funny William," she scolded, as she went to comfort the still angry Will.

William tried to control his chuckles but was only partially successful. As he watched his wife cuddle little Will, making nonsense noises to settle him down, he reflected on his life.

He'd been the minister for First Trinity Baptist Church in Utica for twenty-five years. He'd watch his little congregation grow until it became a church of modest standing, able to do much good in the community. They weren't a rich church, but they offered what they could and that counted for something. Five more years and William knew that he'd probably have to leave his post. He was getting too old for it. Too tired. He'd often thought that when he stepped down from the pulpit, he'd trade in the cold miserable winters of Utica for the warmth of the Florida sun.

Now, he wasn't so sure. After college, all three of his kids had come back to Utica and had settled here, raising their families near their parents, William and Kathy. Little Will was his fourth grandchild, and his daughter, Anna, had one on the way. He had a good family, and if he moved, how would he ever see his kids and grandkids the way he did now? He wanted to know his grandchildren; be a part of their lives the way his own grandparents had never been a part of his. That wouldn't happen if he was hitting the links in Florida.

He glanced up at Kathy. She had traded in her MD doctor's coat for the apron of a stay-at-home mom, raising their three children. William often wondered what his wife felt about that. She was smarter than William, and better looking too, if truth be told. But once baby Roger came into the world, her need for professional acclaim faded under the silkily hypnotic hormones of motherhood. It had been her choice to stay home, asking William if he would rather have her raise their kids or a nanny.

It had been an easy choice: he had fallen in love with his wife, loved her more with each passing year, so why wouldn't he want her to be the one his kids patterned their own life around?

She came to him, having handed little Will off to the baby's mother, Sandra, their daughter-in-law. Kathy came to stand behind him, and he looked up at her and smiled, reaching up to squeeze the hand she rested on his shoulder. Her eyes were shiny, and he knew she was looking at the lovely familial scene; watching all their children and grandchildren under one roof and experiencing the same warm pride and joy that he was feeling.

His wife's face was no longer smooth with youth, nor her hair the auburn it had been when they married, but that didn't matter: she was lovely at any age, and he couldn't imagine or even want to imagine his life without her.

His first inkling that something was wrong in his nearly perfect world was when he heard something that sounded like an explosion going off to the north. It rattled their windows hard and caused several of them to shatter. The family rushed to the front door and saw something that caused a pit of fear to open within William. Seething and reaching for the sky, like an evil harbinger of doom, more sinister and deadly than anything William could ever recall seeing was a mushroom cloud.

"What the…" Roger muttered.

William slammed the door shut. "Kathy, Sandra, everyone, why don't we get the kids inside for some cake and cookies," he suggested in a boisterous tone.

This was met by cheers from the children, who were hustled away from the windows and into the kitchen. The men moved to the front room, and huddled around the TV.

News began to come in, shaky and unclear. The one fact everyone seemed to agree upon was that this wasn't 9-11. Instead, a monster of some sort had apparently leveled Old Forge, NY and a hundred square miles of forest, burning it all ash.

The monster was moving south, but William wasn't worried. The news also said Superman that was on the way. He smiled. Good old Supes. He'd take care of things.

The first visuals came in and the smile left his face as he watched the Justice League get manhandled and dismantled. Supes was starting to wail into the monster, eliciting excited cheers of encouragement. Kathy came in from watching the kids to find out what all the noise was about. William was just filling her in on the details when the beast suddenly fled from the fight.

"That'll show him," Steven declared, William's youngest. "Supes has that thing's number now. There's no way that it's going to live. You see what he did to Grundy a few weeks back? Absolute butt whooping. Never seen Superman fight like that." He nodded to the others in sage assuredness. "You watch. Ever since he came back from that year off, he's been laying into all those psychos of the Five Hundred like nobody's business."

Luke sat up and howled, and came hurtling into William's arms, his tail tucked in between his legs, his head low. The old boy was shivering with fear.

"What is it Luke?" William asked, scared at the dog's behavior.

Reg Lindsay's house across the street exploded into shards of woods.

The last words William Johnson heard from any of his family was Roger's horrified exclamation of, "Merciful Jesus." A grey blur crashed into the Johnson house, collapsing it into kindling.

****

In Utica's downtown, Superman had finally cornered Doomsday, forcing him to stand and fight. The rest of the League were miles behind, and given the injuries they had sustained, they were probably all out of this battle. It was up to Superman, and Superman alone. Thus far, the chase had cost the lives of dozens of people. Clark wept for the loss, hearing every heartbeat snuffed out. His lip curled in anger, and he vowed to take a deathprice out of this monster's hide for what it had done.

Anger would have to wait. For this fight, Clark knew that he would have to be willing to take and give anything. He subsumed all feelings, embracing his Kryponian under-mind and became nearly emotionless.

Kal-El noted in annoyance that the monster's arm, the one he had broken earlier seemed completely healed now. So, the monster had the advantage of quicker healing. It was also just as strong and fast as the Kyptonian. Skill then was the key. It was his only advantage.

Kal circled, flinging kicks again and again at Doomsday's left knee; always darting out of range when the monster sought to engage or punch him. The knee was starting to buckle, and just as Doomsday bent to protect it, Kal changed levels, this time swinging hard from the hips, pivoting and driving a kick straight into the creature's head, following with a long blast of heat vision. The monster staggered back.

"J'onn, help me get the others in the Javelin. I've got to get to Kal," Diana said. She lifted an unconscious Flash into the spaceplane, depositing him in one of the two sickbay beds. The other was occupied by Hal. The Lantern and Wally had sustained the most damage. Batman and Shayera had been given sedatives for their pain, but actual medical therapy would have to wait.

"I'll see to the injured as best as I am able," J'onn said, "but I am afraid you and Superman are on your own as far as the fight is concerned. Batman and Shayera are physically out of it, and I can't seem to focus. I keep seeing three of everything."

Batman was still groggy, but he clutched at Diana as she was about to leave. "Diana, wait," he said, his speech slurred by the concussion and the sedatives. "Be careful. Clark was right; this beast can kill us all. You and Clark have to stop it."

Diana gentled disengaged his hand. "Don't worry, Bruce. We will," she vowed. She swept into the air toward the sound of battle.

****

Lois Lane had followed the progress of the fight between the grey-skinned behemoth and the Justice League with fear. She'd never seen Clark get beaten like that. It was shocking. She charged into the office of Richard White, Perry's nephew, and the producer of her show on ABS. "I need a chopper to get to the fight between the JL and that…that…whatever it is."

Richard looked up. "We don't have any dedicated pilots available right now," he said.

"None?" Lois sputtered. "What do you mean no pilots? What kind of candy-ass cheapo outfit is this?" she demanded, fear for Clark, bringing out all her brashness and boldness.

Richard smiled. "We don't have any _dedicated_ pilots, meaning we don't have anyone employed as a just a pilot available. We do have a pilot, though," he said, pausing. "Me."

"You can fly a chopper?" At his nod of ascension, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him with her. "I'll get Olson to work the camera," she said. "Meet us on the roof in five minutes. I want that bird prepped and ready to go."

****

Doomsday shot forward, clinching a tired Kal in a bear hug. Kal lifted off the ground before the monster could crush him against the ground and got an arm inside the clinch and slipped underneath it. He ended up with his face at Doomsday's feet, and the spun the beast around, piledriving the monster headfirst into the pavement.

"Stay down," Kal urged, almost begged. Kryptonians were legendary for their emotional control; but under the heat of the battle being waged; the damage he was taking; and the relentlessness of his enemy, Kal's ice cold façade was starting to thaw and melt.

Doomsday stood, shaking off the injury. He stepped forward.

The two continued their fight, landing heavy blow after heavy blow. Kal grew angry and began to take more chances. He began to make more mistakes and take more punishment. It helped that Doomsday was starting to show damage as well, but it took Kal ten blows to accomplish what it took the monster to do in five.

He heard her coming in from the north, her heartbeat steady and resolute. Kal made sure the animal was facing south the entire time, shifting so that the monster was facing east a moment before Diana plowed into the beast, a move similar to when she had first joined the fight. She drilled Doomsday through the pavement, carving a long trench a quarter mile in length. She had the beast on the ground, and was unleashing punishing blow after punishing blow, throwing each punch as fast as she could.

Doomsday began to crack under the pressure, his teeth chipped to shards. In desperation, he grabbed for Diana's neck, not letting go even as she hammered at his face and his constricting hand. The monster rose, holding Diana out in front of him, again using her as a shield from Kal's heat vision. He punched her unconscious and glanced at Kal from around her limp form. "I kill her, Kryptonian," Doomsday growled; his first words.

"You won't hurt her. Not now. Not ever again," Clark growled back, all semblance of his Kryptonian coldness melting away.

Doomsday threw Diana to the side, where she rolled over and over before crashing into a light pole and knocking it down. She lay still.

Clark howled and rushed Doomsday. All technique and tactics and strategy were thrown out the window. The two titans pounded away at each, seeking each other's death. Clark took punishment, but dealt it out as well, holding nothing back. Nothing at all in a way he'd never allowed himself to do before. This was a fight to the death.

Clark once more gained a Muai-Thai clinch and hit Doomsday with twenty straight knees to the face, leaving the beast to spit out teeth that fell to the ground with the dull sound of steel hitting pavement.

Doomsday fired off a barrage of punches, most of them missing, and getting tattooed over and over again by the counterstrikes. They swayed, both of them spent; neither healing. Too much damage had been done.

A last moment. Both cocked a fist, rearing back and pausing infinitesimally at the apex of their swings, before releasing their punches. Air, superheated by the speed of their blurring arms, concussed outward, lifting rubble into the air. But that was nothing compared to the explosive shockwave that thundered in a discharge of heat and sound and fury when their fists connected.

The buildings surrounding them were instantly flattened and blown apart. The street was rubbled and exploded outward, leaving a crater, a perfect circle over a half-mile in radius and cleared of nearly everything but for one singular woman. A moonscape had been wrought and ashes floated like grey snow, an incongruent reminder of winter on this hot spring day.

At the heart of it, the two beings, Superman and Doomsday, slumped against one another, like two old friends, too weary to continue. Slowly, they slid down and apart. It was over and both were dead.

****

"Oh, God, no," Lois whispered, her face ashen and her heart in her throat. He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? She began to shake, moaning low. "No. No. No. This isn't right. He's alive. He has to be." Her gaze turned to Richard. "Set us down, right next to them," she pleaded.

J'onn had the Javelin parked near where the two had fallen, landing a few seconds after Lois. In an instant, Shayera, Bruce, and J'onn were off the spaceplane, heading as fast as they could to their fallen comrade. Diana reached him first.

She knelt over him, the planes of her perfectly sculpted face purpled and swollen and distorted. Her glorious mane of hair was caked with dirt and sand and fine particles of glass, and hung in thick, limp strands. Her uniform was torn and ripped and stained. She had been beaten as savagely as ever she had been in her entire life. That kind of pain didn't matter, though. Not with the aching in her heart.

She knelt over him, sorrowing at the sight of the disfigurement to his once beautiful face. Weeping at seeing his chest not rising. Still, she was an Amazon, and even in the midst of her grief, she did not allow a tear to fall.

She pulled him into her arms, embracing him and kissing his forehead, his face, unaware and uncaring that others approached. She prayed. "Please, Gods, let him live. I'll give up anything, even him. I'll never look upon him again. Just let him live. Please Gods, be merciful to him. Please Kal, live. Live for all that that you've given up and never had."

He lay still in her arms, as she rocked him gently back and forth.

She huddled over him, pain and sorrow suffusing her body. He was gone. Her beloved Kal was gone. She keened her loss. She would never again see his crooked, mischievous grin or hear his gentle laugh. She would never again race him in the clouds or brush the obstinate lock of hair off his forehead. She would never again be whole just by knowing that he was with her. She would never again feel his love.

She smoothed the hair from his face. "I love you, Kal. You were the best of me. I will always love you," she said as she looked into his special, wonderful face.

****

Jimmy Olson was in shock, but he was a professional. In the back of his mind, he dimly noted that this footage would probably be played and re-played for as long as humans roamed the Earth. This was a scene that couldn't have been scripted any better: the death of Superman, a thing almost incomprehensible. And after the end, confirming almost everyone's deep-seated suspicion: it turned Big Blue and double-W had been in love. In full living color, Jimmy Olson had the proof.

Tears streamed down his face at the loss he was witnessing. He was too professional to let the camera rock and shake, though. He was determined to ensure that this footage would be as pristine as he could make it, with no jerky movements. Posterity demanded no less.

****

Lois Lane listened to Diana's words with ashes in her mouth. When she'd confronted the Princess the other night and heard the Amazon confirm that she loved Clark, she had never imagined it was so deep. It was humbling.

Part of her, a large part of her, was angry, though, and viciously so. Clark had been hers, and she had loved him, too. No less than Diana, but Lois wasn't able to wallow in her grief. No. That wasn't allowed or even possible. She was here at the scene of a tragedy. Many tragedies, in fact. Superman hadn't been the only one who had died in Utica today. Hundreds of others had as well, and Lois had a job to do. She watched as Diana made a public spectacle of her grief over Clark's death. Lois wasn't sure she was up to the task of putting up a brave front and doing her job. Her heart was broken.

The other Leaguers spoke softly to Diana, and helped her rise as they made their shambling way back to the Javelin. No one would be interviewing the Princess of Themiscyra today.

"They look like they've been mauled," Richard said, shock and fear in his voice.

"They're packing it in," Lois replied. "They don't have anything to offer for clean-up as badly hurt as they are." She snorted. "I'd say they'll all be on injured reserve for the next few months."

"Do you wish any help carrying him aboard," Shayera asked, her hands outstretched.

Diana shook her head 'no'. She smoothed Kal's hair one last time, and smiled at his beauty. The Gods may not have fashioned him, but a God had. She let a single tear fall, from her eyes to his lips. She would carry him, and no other would.

Diana had noticed Lois Lane, and a part of her felt pity for the grief the woman must be going through. She also had grudging admiration at the courage the Lane woman was showing. It couldn't have been easy.

Diana did not feel enough empathy to bring Kal to Lois and let her touch him; to hold him; and kiss his cooling forehead one last time. Lois Lane had been loved and held by Kal-El as Diana never had. The woman should consider herself blessed, and as Hera was her witness, in this, his death, Kal would be Diana's.

J'onn carted in the carcass of Doomsday, and Diana's lips curled in disgust. The rest of the League limped on board, taking their places and buckling in. They were silent as J'onn started up the engines; each lost in their own thoughts; each acknowledging the simple fact that they were now an organization broken in body and spirit: their leader, the greatest of them all, Superman, was dead.


	10. Chapter 10

I had to re-post Ch. 9 because I expanded it considerably. If you've read the story from when I first posted it, you're going to have to go back and re-read Ch.9, otherwise Ch. 10 won't make any sense.

**Chapter 10**

The exact legalities of who would make the arrangements for Superman's funeral were unclear. He was a resident alien, originally from another planet, and the U.N. felt that as such, he was a citizen of the world. They argued, he should be buried in the famously neutral nation of Switzerland. The United States Congress, of course, vehemently opposed this idea. Superman did most of his work in America; he spoke American English as his first language. He had even made it clear that he had been raised in America. He should be buried in either Washington, DC or Metropolis, his home city.

The wrangling would have saddened Superman had he been alive to witness it. Politics was a necessary evil, and so much more difficult to fight than any super-powered villain.

Diana put an end to the squabbling. She had possession of Superman's body, and she wouldn't allow his funeral to become a political pinball between sleazy officials who were only a few rungs higher on the ladder of depravement than some of the people locked up in Arkham. The League had been Superman's idea, and it had been his idea to nationalize it. He was a Jusctice Leaguer, and the League would decide on his funeral arrangements. As the new defacto head of the League, Diana cut through the chatter and let the squabbling parties learn of her decision on how Superman's funeral would be handled.

A memorial would be raised in Metropolis, but his actual remains would be sent to be cremated in the sun, the star that had given birth to his extraordinary powers. He would be decked out in his famous blue Kryptonian armor, along with the blue kryptonite vambraces that were a legacy of his Kryptonian House. Travelling with him on his final journey would be a picture of his family, Lois Lane, and the Justice League.

It wasn't a decision she came to on her own, though. The League had held a private memorial service for their fallen comrade on Watchtower. Both Jonathon and Martha Kent were in attendance for the quiet ceremony since neither would be expected or allowed in the front rows at Superman's Metropolis funeral. Those seats were reserved for the powerful. Diana grimaced at the thought. That was not how Kal would have wanted things. He had always envisioned himself a man of the people.

Diana spoke to Jonathon and Martha after the service at Watchtower, and they let her know of their wishes. She would honor them, just as she honored Kal's chosen love. Lois had also been invited to the ceremony at the station. The woman had remained brave and strong throughout the turbulent times since Kal's death. She had earned Diana's respect.

At the Metropolis funeral, Diana stood on the stage, along with J'onn, listening to the bloviations of various officials and boring politicians. She frowned when the public was allowed to file past. Standing at the front of the line was Lex Luthor.

"Hello, Diana. J'onn," he said, as he passed them by.

The snake knelt at Superman's statue, drawing a hiss of annoyance from Diana. The audacity of the man! She heard him whisper a few words, but a trick of the wind allowed her to hear the final ones.

"Goodbye, brother," he had said.

An odd thing for him to say considering how much he hated Superman.

J'onn suddenly went stock still. "He knew."

Diana glanced at him. "Knew what?"

J'onn shook his head. "It is no longer important," he said to Diana's confused look.

She shrugged and watched the rest of the people straggle past.

****

During all of this, Diana was also busy with other emergencies. After recovering from the battle with Doomsday, she and J'onn were heavily involved with the cleanup of Utica and upstate New York. As the only members of the Justice League still fully functional, they had a lot of ground to cover.

The rest of the League was still healing. It would be weeks before Hal and Wally would be allowed to leave the infirmary. Their injuries had been far more serious than simple broken limbs, and both had been hospitalized at Metropolis General. Hal had a lacerated kidney and had needed surgery while Wally had ended up with a punctured lung. Shayera had hovered over both of them during that time, to make sure that neither or their true identities were revealed.

Hawkgirl's broken wing would heal quickly, and even Batman was likely to be up and about soon. Diana had contacted Themiscyra and after begging and pleading with her mother, the station now had a Purple Ray. Bruce had been astonished at the repairs the Purple Ray was able to do provide to his damaged body. The creeping arthritis, the slipped disks, the torn ligaments in his knee, all the injuries he'd accumulated in a decade of taking on the worst of Gotham, all of it was slowly fading. A few more weeks of this, and he'd be a new man.

Bruce had smiled at the thought. Wait until he got back to Gotham.

Still, until the others were healed, it had fallen to Diana and J'onn to do the work of seven. A momentary bleak spot, or maybe a momentary bleaker spot, had come during a particularly draining day of clean-up in Utica. She had heard a dog's whining bark from under the rubble of a house, and a scan by Search and Rescue showed two heartbeats, one human and one canine.

Praise Hera. Finally, she would be able to save someone. Diana slowly cleared the debris until a man and a dog clambered out off the wreckage.

The man held onto his dog like it was his only lifeline in a savage sea. "It's ok, Luke. You're ok, boy," he repeated over and over as the dog whined and tried to lick the man's face.

"Do you need me to take you to the hospital?" Diana asked, politely.

"I don't think so," the man replied. "Me and Luke seem to only have a few scratches." He looked at the debris which had once been his home. He looked pleadingly at Diana. "Did you find anyone else?" he asked. "My wife, my kids, all my grandkids…they were in there with me."

Diana shook her head sadly. "I'm so sorry," she said. "No one else showed up on the scan."

The man seemed to crumple before her, sobbing with grief. She wanted to cry with him, cry for the man's loss, for her own loss. She pulled him into a warm embrace, but maintained her Amazonian stoicism. She had other work to do, some of which would undoubtedly be just as painful as this moment.

The man straightened up, rubbing the tears from his eyes. "The Bible says God only gives us troubles that he knows we can carry," he said. "God, my loving Jesus, why did you have to give me this burden?" He seemed lost, having forgotten Diana's presence as his gaze wandered aimlessly. He glanced at Diana, and he out his hand. "Thank you for saving me, Princess. I wish you could have saved my family, too."

"I wish I could have as well," Diana said. "Is there anyone you need me to contact? Any place you need to go?"

William shook his head 'no'. "I'm all alone in the world now," he said. He took a deep breath. "Are their bodies still in there?"

"I think so."

One more deep breath. "Then I guess I should find them. They deserve to be laid to rest in dignity."

"Would you like me to help?" Diana asked, heart breaking at the man's strength and bravery.

"You've got more important business, miss. There might be other folk out there who can still be saved." He nodded. "This is my own task. I loved them, and I'll bury them. It's only right."

"Good luck then, sir." Diana said, getting ready to leave.

As she was about to lift off, he called to her. "My name is William Johnson. I'm the minister of First Trinity Baptist. I'd take it as a kindness and an honor if you could come to the service for all the folk who died here."

Diana was busy. So much work to do. She didn't know why, but Mr. Johnson – who had apparently lost his entire family, and somehow had the grace to still love his God and think of the well-being of others – he touched her. In a grave and solemn voice, she said, 'yes'.

A few days later, Diana kept that promise. She returned to Utica to attend the funeral.

The service that Mr. Johnson led for his family and all the other members of his congregation who had died that awful day was a simple affair for folk who had enjoyed living a simple life. _**Would that their deaths had been simple as well_, Diana thought. Would the grief and loss of the living be any less if it had been? Of course not, but at least it would be a death that the living could understand. One that they could comprehend and accept. This, though, killed during a battle between a monster and Superman? It was so bizarrely incomprehensible. They all looked to be in shock from it all.

Diana stood silently in the back, but knowledge of her presence still drew stares and craned necks. It wasn't often that the people of Utica saw a superhero, much less a member of the Justice League up close and personal. Besides, she was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and many of the attendees were curious to find out if her famed beauty was simply a myth. It wasn't.

She let Mr. Johnson's words wash over her, listening to his litany of prayer and faith; listening as he asked a God he believed in to have mercy and allow his family into heaven.

The Abrahamic religions were strange to Diana. The Hebrew God was so vengeful and destructive that in comparison, Ares appeared mild and benign. Witness what the God of Abraham did to the Philistines or the original inhabitants of Jericho. But then there was the Christian New Testament. An oddly disquieting book about this same God – a being of supreme power and compassion – who nevertheless, martyred His own Son. What sort of God would allow such a thing; the murder of his only Son for His own needs? With a rueful start, Diana realized that her own Gods, the Olympians were known to have done just that and worse. Of course, Christians stated that Jesus was God and God was Jesus, so God had actually allowed himself to die; an absurd contradiction that Diana couldn't get her mind around. She wondered how many Christians could.

She shook her head. A truly odd religion. The only reason she had learned of it was because it was one of the dominant faiths of the Patriarch's World. That and Kal had felt such an attachment to it and to its belief in the power of service.

As for the other Abrahamic religion, Islam, it held no appeal for Diana whasoever. She had read the Qur'an and found it wanting. Diana was a woman of action, and when she considered Islam, the phrase that came to mind was an old aphorism from the Patriarch's World: actions speak louder than words. Despite what some Muslim scholars said, there seemed little place for a woman as anything other than chattel in too many Muslim countries.

After the service, Mr. Johnson sought her out. "Thank you for coming, Wonder Woman," he said.

"Diana," she corrected. "My friends call me Diana. And you're welcome, Mr. Johnson…"

"William," Mr. Johnson replied, smiling. "My friends call me William."

Diana nodded her head in acknowledgement. "It was my pleasure, William," she said warmly. "Again, I am so very sorry for your loss."

William's smiled wistfully. "They're in a better place now," he said. "That's all I can hope and pray for."

"It's all any of us can," Diana replied.

"True," William said, glancing aside. A moment later, his eyes returned to her face. "I saw the footage of when Superman died." He looked at her searchingly. "We weren't the only ones who had a great loss that day."

"No you weren't," Diana said, sadly. "But my loss pales in comparison to your own."

William gave a tight-lipped smile of acceptance at her words. He looked at her for a long time before speaking again. "You never cried during your pain, did you?" At her head shake of negation, he continued. "It doesn't mean weakness, you know? It's just a part of being human. Hiding your grief doesn't make it go away. It always finds a way to come out, even if it has to fester and bubble away in order to do so."

She smiled gently. "You are a wise man, William. But I do grieve in my own way. I am an Amazon, and I simply don't allow my pain to infirm me and keep me from doing my tasks." She looked at him, a knowing look in her eyes. "Much as you did today, I think."

William nodded in agreement. "Well, I shouldn't keep you," he said. "If there's anything you ever need to talk about let me know." His eyes welled. "I lost the love of my life, too."

Diana watched him take a few steps away from her. She didn't know what compelled her just then, but she called out to his retreating back. "He never knew I loved him," she said.

William stopped and turned, a questioning look on his face.

Diana stepped toward him. "He never knew I loved him," she said again. In a rush, and for reasons she couldn't fathom, she blurted out the story of her unrequited love for Kal-El, speaking things to a relative stranger that she wouldn't have dared tell another soul.

William listened patiently and quietly, a sad look on his face. After she smiled, he took off his glasses and wiped his eyes, sighing. "Now look what you made me do, miss. I'm crying again."

"I'm sorry, William," Diana said, horrified and embarrassed at what she'd just done.

"Don't worry. I won't tell another soul. This is between you, me, and God."

"I don't believe in your God."

"That's ok," William said amiably. "He believes in you." He smiled at her. "I give praise and thanks to Him for the life he gave me; the time he gave me with my wife and my children. I miss them terribly, and will do so every moment for the rest of my life, but I can't let it break me. Focusing too much on what's not to be and what's lost only leads to bitterness and anguish. Eventually, that path changes us until we're no longer the people that our loved ones loved." He held her arms, urging her to understand his words. "Remember that Diana. He may not have known of you love, and he may not have spoken of his for you, but it was there. In all that you just told me of your life with him, your love for one another shined like a beacon. It is so obvious and clear. Live your life in a way that would make him happy. He would want that for you."

Diana nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was an Amazon, and Amazon's were strong. Oh, but what she wouldn't have given to have been held by Kal one last time.

"It's ok to cry, child," William said, softly.

His words broke the dam inside and she wept, held by a small, old man, a stranger.

****

"Hello, Mrs. Kent."

"Lex Luthor," Martha said. "What brings you to our farm?" she asked in an unwelcoming tone. What this man had tried to do to her son time and time again…Christian charity taught forgiveness, but this man made it so hard. In this Clark, even though he wasn't a Christian, was more Christ-like than she. Why he had saved the snake's life, she still couldn't understand.

"I'm here to see you and Mr. Kent," Lex said, breaking into her thoughts.

"Martha, who is it?" Jonathon asked, stepping to the door. Upon seeing Lex, he frowned in disapproval. "What do you want, Lex?" Jonathon asked, his face angry and flushed. "Clark's not here, if he's who you're looking for."

"He's on sabbatical," Martha added.

Lex looked at them, an unexpected compassion in his eyes. "We both know that Clark isn't ever coming back from that sabbatical," he said.

"What are talking about, Lex?" Jonathon demanded. "Are you threatening him?" He took an aggressive step forward. "I know Clark tried to see the best in you, and the two of you still had lunch every once in awhile, but Clark's our son. You stay away from him."

Lex put up his hands. "I didn't come to argue, Mr. Kent. I came to offer my apologies."

"Good. You've offered them. Now get off my land," Jonathon growled, moving to shut the door.

"Mr. Kent, wait! Please. Clark still loved me. He wouldn't have saved me if he didn't," Lex pleaded.

"You're confused, Lex. Superman saved you."

"Clark was my best friend. My only friend, and I know who he was. He was the one who gave me that transfusion." He shrugged. "Why do you think I stopped trying to kill him after that?"

Jonathon had a wary look in his eyes. "What do you really want, Lex?"

"I wanted to offer my sympathies."

"Your sympathies for what?" Martha asked, feigning confusion.

Lex grimaced. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, we can go on playing this whole shell game, but I know who he was. He was Superman. I've known since I received his transfusion," Lex said. "Kryptonians have an emotional genetic memory. He told you that, I think. Well, when his blood flowed through me, cleaning out my cancer, I felt what he felt for me. He loved me, even after all I'd done and become. He remembered what I once was." Lex stared at the ground. He wasn't accustomed to having to explain himself. It was humbling. He looked up, staring Mr. Kent in the eyes. The old farmer had always approved of that. "I also came for a job."

"What kind of a job."

Lex grimaced. "Let's just say that if you own stock in LuthorCorp, now would be a good time to sell. The company was involved in some…unsavory activities that Lois Lane managed to uncover. She's passed the info on to the feds, and a lot of heads will roll when it's all said and done. LuthorCorp stock won't be worth the paper it's printed on."

"But you'll get off scot free," Jonathon guessed. He eyed Lex with disgust. "You Luthors have never had to pay for your crimes or your messes," he said with a huff of loathing. "Goodbye, Lex."

"Mr. Kent, wait." Lex put his foot in the door, preventing it from being closed. "I said I came for a job."

"We don't want your money," Jonathon said with a growl. "Now get your foot out of my door, or I'll shoot it off."

"I didn't come to give you a job," Lex said in desperation. Jonathon Kent had always been such a stubborn mule. "I need a job."

Jonathon and Martha looked at one another in astonishment before turning back to him. "What?" they both asked in unison.

"All my money was tied up in LuthorCorp." They looked at him in disbelief. "Ok, not all of it. I have a few billion squirreled away in offshore accounts," he said. "But I'm going to need all that money for the lawyers."

Martha guffawed. "I hope they're worth it," she said. "A billion dollars to stay out of jail." She shook her head. "You're an idiot, Lex, you know that? You could have saved all that money and done some good in the world if you'd just been a decent human being."

"I know that now, Mrs. Kent," Lex said, sounding exasperated. "And the money's not all for the lawyers. Some of it will go for the fines I'm sure to have to pay, and the rest will go to the investors."

"You're going to give your money way?" Jonathon asked, disbelief suffusing his voice.

Lex smiled. "I guess Clark must have rubbed off on me," he said, "but it's the right thing to do. I own eighty percent of LuthorCorp stock, and the rest is held by institutional investors. You know, money managers for retirement funds and pensions. I have enough money to cover about ninety-five percent of the stock losses that will occur. It's the best I can do."

"The best would have been not running a criminal organization masquerading as a legitimate company."

"Can we please just get beyond that, Mr. Kent?" Lex asked with a sigh. "That's why I'm here. When this is all done, I'll essentially be penniless. I need a job."

Jonathon gave him a hard look. "I can't believe you'd come here to ask me, to ask us, for our help after all that you've done to folk here in Smallville."

"It's a lot to ask, but you and Mrs. Kent, believe it or not, are the closest people I have to family," Lex said. He tilted his head, questioningly. "Do you know what Clark's truest desire was?" He continued on before they could answer. "I do. It was written in his blood; in the blood that still flows in my veins…" At their mulish looks of disagreement, he held up his hands. "Ok. Fine. Superman's blood, who isn't Clark Kent, if you want to maintain that fiction. Anyway, _Superman_ always thought of himself as Humanity's servant, not its protector. He was a true believer in the power of willing service. The power of humility." Lex chuckled, more of a bitter bark than true laughter. "If you'll have me, Mr. and Mrs. Kent, maybe we'll find out how true that can be?"

Jonathon and Martha Kent shared a long look, speaking without words the way some couples can. Finally, Martha sighed. "We need to talk about this, Lex," she said. "It's a lot to ask, and…"

"And you can't trust me any further than you can throw me," Lex said with a rueful grin. "Clark could have thrown me pretty far." At their obstinate frowns, he retracted his words. "Never mind. Forget I said that. I'm just glad you didn't say 'no' on the spot."

"I wanted to," Jonathon said with fervent feeling. "You're just lucky Martha has a soft place in her heart for strays like you."

Lex gave a rueful and crooked grin. "Yes, I know. I was almost counting on that," he said. "Here's my card. Let me know one way or another?"

"We'll be in touch," Jonathon said, closing the door.

"Well, that went better than I hoped," Lex said. "This whole humility thing better be worth it, Clark," he muttered as he stepped off the porch, still missing and grieving for the man he thought of as a brother.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"I haven't seen you around at the Watchtower too much lately," Diana said, looking down at Wally.

They were sitting on the dock of his lake house on Mercer Island, near Seattle. He made a very good living as a superhero endorser, selling everything from Intel – _Microchips even faster than the Flash_ – to Dominos Pizza – _We can get you that pizza in a Flash or it's free_. He'd never be in Bruce's league, no pun intended, but he made enough to have paid cash for his ten thousand square foot pad along with its quarter mile of lake frontage in one of Seattle's priciest zip codes. It had set him back about five mill, but the beautiful lake views were worth it.

Wally had his legs dangling over the side, while Diana stood next to him, both of them gazing out over the water. He glanced up at her. "It's just hard wanting to keep going without Big Blue around," he said, despondently.

"I know what you mean, Wally," Diana said softly, as she lowered herself to the dock, seating herself next to him. "I miss him, too."

Wally was uncharacteristically solemn. "I heard what you said about him after…you know." He looked at her profile. "Did you mean it?"

Diana smiled wistfully. "Which part? That I loved him or that he was the best of me?"

Wally looked momentarily confused. "Both I guess."

Diana turned to him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "I meant it all, Wally. I loved him, and I'll always love him."

"Then why were you with Bats?" Wally asked.

Diana sighed. "Because I could never have Kal."

"But you loved him," Wally said, sounding confused.

"Yes, but should that mean that I am never allowed to be loved in return? Kal did not look upon me that way?"

Wally grinned. "Well if it's loving you want, you came to the right place," he said.

Diana patted his cheek. "Now that's the Wally I've come to like and find so exasperating," she said with a chuckle.

Wally blushed, wisely remaining silent. A pretty woman could get him so tongue-tied he ended up sounding like a babbling idiot. There was a companionable quiet before Wally spoke again. "Are you really thinking of expanding the League?"

"Yes," Diana said, "which is part of the reason I'm here." She looked him in the eye. "I've come to bring you back."

"I never really left," Wally said with a smirk.

"That's not entirely true is it? You're never around anymore, and you've taken yourself off the duty roster. Are you still injured?"

"Naw. I'm 100%."

"Then why haven't you been back to the Watchtower? It's been six weeks since Kal's funeral."

Wally picked at the dock, digging out a chip of wood and flinging it out into the water. "What's the point?" he asked. "I can run superfast, but I don't have your strength, Hal's ring, Shayera's mace, or Batman's smarts. What good am I to the rest of you guys?"

Diana drew Wally into a hug. He stiffened, shocked and uncertain. In all the time he'd known her, she'd never given him a hug. The lady had very strict ideas about proper decorum.

"Umm. Diana, what was the hug for?"  
"To let you know that you're needed. The League needs you. I need you." At his leer, she slapped the back of his head. "Not like that," she said. "As a friend and a teammate."

"So, just to be clear, there's no chance of you needing me for other reasons?" At her amused headshake of negation, he sighed, dramatically even though he'd already known what her answer would be.

The truth was, he wasn't nearly as much of a space cadet as he pretended to be. He actually had pretty good insight into what others needed, and he tried to answer that need. Half of his innuendoes and seemingly stupid statements were really for comic relief. Between Batman's deadly seriousness; Diana's tightly-wound sense of decency; Shayera's aggression; and J'onn's monotonous earnestness, the League needed a person to laugh at. Wally had volunteered himself. Some of his jokes hadn't always worked, but they did usually break the tension.

Only Supes had really gotten him, though, understanding that underneath it all, Wally wasn't playing the fool; he was giving them all a chance to laugh. Now, Big Blue was gone, and Wally wasn't sure where he fit in anymore. He wasn't as powerful as the other Justice League members, and he was having a crisis of confidence.

"I know what you're thinking," Diana said. "You are not weak, Wally. You are strong. You've always held up your end in a fight."

"Not this last time," he said, bitterly.

"None of us did," Diana answered. "Wally, it was always you who brought us back from the brink of getting mired in the swamps of our self-importance. It was always you who reminded us that, in the end, we're all just people. You kept us from taking ourselves too seriously, Wally, and that's a potent power." She looked down and picked at her fingernails. "It's one that we surely need right now," she said in a soft voice. "With Kal's death, we can't afford to wallow in our grief. We need to be able to smile again."

"So, you need a clown?"  
Diana smiled at him. "No, Wally. We need the Flash. We need the superhero who also has the power to make us laugh at ourselves and not at him."

She'd understood him after all. Much better than he would have ever suspected. Wally was flummoxed. He thought only Supes got all that about him. "I…"

"You thought that I was some uptight Amazonian Princess who couldn't smile and thought you were an irresponsible fool," Diana teased.

Wally nodded. How long had she known? He made a mental note: don't ever invite her to play poker.

Diana laughed. "I've known your game all along," she said, confirming his worst fears. "I even sometimes scowled at your jokes because I knew that's what you expected of me."

"So, you really think I'm needed."

"The team's not complete without you," she said, giving Wally an affectionate squeeze. She stood. "We're having a meeting to discuss expanding our roster in three days. I expect you there."

"I'll be there, ma'am," Wally said with a grin. _Why had Supes never seen what was right in front of his eyes? _Wally sighed after she'd risen and flown off. He still missed the big guy.

****

"When were you planning on letting me know you were resigning the League?" Diana asked.

Bruce Wayne looked up from the computer in his study. "That'll be all, Alfred," he said to his long-time butler, the man who'd practically raised him, and was currently hovering in the doorway, an uncertain expression on his face. After he left, Bruce turned to Diana. "I haven't finalized my plans yet," he said.

"Why are you considering it at all?"

"He was the best of us, Diana," Bruce said. "Without him, I'm just not certain the League can still perform its mission."

"The mission again."

Bruce sighed. She was such a fine warrior, but she understood so little. The mission took precedence over all. Crime had a way of seething and spreading its foul tentacles wherever it could. Even so-called nice neighborhoods and gated communities weren't always safe. Criminals weren't hard to understand: they wanted what they hadn't earned, and were willing to do whatever was necessary to take it. That was where the Batman came in. He would make sure that such a thing didn't happen, and that no young boy or girl would have to become what Bruce Wayne had to.

That was the mission.

And thanks to the Purple Ray, he had a chance to continue on, now that his body was healed and whole. He hadn't felt this strong even in his early twenties when he'd just started out as the Batman.

"I see," Diana said at his silence. "No one else must end up being as you've allowed yourself to become."

"Yes."_ Perhaps she understood more than he realized. _

"That still doesn't answer why you're considering resigning."

"Do you think you've earned that right to know the answer?" He hadn't forgiven her for nearly breaking his jaw on that horrible day Clark had died. She hadn't even apologized. Just remembering Clark's name, though, it brought back a flood of memories. The Boyscout had gone full out that day, doing something he'd always said he wouldn't: he killed. In some ways, it was almost poetic justice that he had died the same day he broke his cardinal rule. Bruce wondered what would have happened to him if he lived. Would Clark have developed a taste for the easy solution, becoming judge, jury, and executioner? In that case, Batman would have had to put him down. He glanced at Diana who remained silent as she considered his question. Last year, with Max Lord, he'd wondered about her as well. So far, she had passed.

"This is about more than just whether the League can still fulfill its mandate," Diana said. "It's about when I hit you on the Javelin. I never apologized."

"No, you didn't."

"Then you have my apology."

"For almost breaking my jaw or kissing Clark?"

"You're being petty, Bruce. My feelings for Clark have nothing to do with you."

He remained silent before her words. Truthfully, he was being petty. He had known all along that he should never get involved with a teammate. This is what could happen. He'd just never expected to be the one with issues of jealousy and loss of focus. He'd always figured it would be the other party.

Diana sighed. "Fine. Make your decision, but understand this Bruce: you helped found the Justice League, and in all the time I've known you, you've never run from a fight. Well this is the greatest fight of our lives, and we need you. We can't replace Kal, but the mission is still in front of us. It won't go away just because your feelings are hurt or because you are having insecurities. Man up, Bruce. The League needs your leadership and advice."

She walked out, leaving him seething,. Damn her and her words! What did she know? He wasn't hiding or running. That wasn't his way.

Alfred came in a few seconds after Diana left. "The Ambassador seemed quite perturbed when she left," he mentioned. "Is there anything in particular you wish to discuss?"

"Leave it be, Alfred," Bruce said with a sigh. "She's just angry because I'm thinking of resigning from the Justice League."

Alfred blinked. "Pardon me, sir, but are you sure that's wise? Is it not now that the League is in most dire need of your skills and expertise?"

"Good night Alfred."

"As you say, sir," Alfred said, shutting the doors to the study behind him as he left.

Bruce pondered his butler's words. The old man had an uncanny ability to make him see wisdom.

Bruce stared out the window into his gardens. He was the Batman, and that meant being able to face hard truths. Was he hurt and angry by Diana's words and actions that terrible day? Yes, it seemed that was true. So much of that day was roiled in a toxic brew of betrayal, anger, and loss. It was time to get over it. It was compromising his work. He sighed. And yes, Diana was right, he was running. It wasn't because he was afraid, though. A hard truth was that Bruce wasn't a leader. That had been Clark's role. It had been Superman's vision and guidance that had created and molded the Justice League.

Bruce knew he couldn't fill those shoes.

****

Lieutenant Jeremy Jordan, JJ to his men, walked the line of broken stores and houses that made up Utica's newly renovated downtown. The battle between the monster and Superman had been six weeks ago, but all the fires up in Old Forge and in the Adirondacks were only now coming under control. JJ and his men of the 204th Engineer Battalion of the New York National Guard had been up in the fire zone almost this entire time, pulling 18 hour days, 7 days a week. The troop was burned out on firefighting, and HQ had finally passed the word that they were up for some R&R now that most of the big fires were out.

They'd trucked down to Utica, and immediately been enlisted by some puke colonel in the 104th MP into some half-assed patrol of Utica to prevent looting.

Stupid asshole. There wasn't anything to steal. The battle had leveled the downtown, and anything that might have been worth taking was either flattened or buried under the rubble. JJ sighed. At least his patrol was almost over. The 727th was supposed to relieve them at 1600 hours.

JJ thought about the shower and cots that awaited his men. Six weeks in the field with nothing but their kits, and the men were pretty funky. First thing, though, was to call home and check in Kate and the kids.

When he'd left, Connor had just started daycare, and Sally was getting excited about for her first summer camp. Of course, camp had come and gone, and he'd missed it all. Shit. He wondered if little Connor was rolling over yet. The kid seemed like he was just on the verge of learning how when JJ had received his orders.

It sucked being away from his family. It sucked working the hours he and the boys had been putting in. It sucked watching friends die, like when Steve Richardson and Red Campion had both bought it when the wind gusted at the wrong moment and suddenly trapped them on the wrong side of the fire. It sucked when he'd had to call Steve and Blue's families and tell them what had happened.

JJ sighed. It sucked having to gear up every damn day of the past six weeks when all you wanted to do was crawl in some hole and lay down. But you couldn't. There was a job to do, and it wouldn't do itself.

All because of some goddamn mother fucker from outerspace.

JJ shook his head. He wished Supes had taken that beast out sooner and not bought it himself. The Guard could have used his help during these past six weeks of hell. Maybe Steve and Red would have still been alive, too.

He stepped aside letting a guard convoy pass by, and glanced up. A couple more hours and he could lay his burden down for awhile.

Tomorrow would be back to the grind.

****

"Wally, good to see you again," Diana said, hugging the Flash who grinned and hugged her back.

"Well, someone in this crew needs to be able to spin the media, and it sure at ain't any of you guys," Wally said, taking a seat.

Hal, Shayera, and J'onn were already present.

"Is Bruce coming?" Shayera asked.

"I don't know," Diana answered. "It didn't seem like he would when I spoke to him several days ago."

Hal swore softly. "As impossible as it will be to replace Clark, Bruce will be almost just as hard."

"Then don't worry, you won't have to," Bruce said, ghosting in on silent feet.

Diana nodded acknowledgement. "Good to see Batman. You were missed."

Bruce took his seat and Diana began the meeting. "I've been trying to run the League since Kal…" She shuddered and took a deep breath. "Since Kal died. Now that Bruce is here, that duty of leadership I will gladly pass on to him."

"No," Bruce said in a flat voice of denial.

"No? Why not?" Wally asked. "You're the senior member. You're also a member of a different sort, but that's between you and your lady friends."

Hal held in a chuckle and even J'onn broke a smile. Batman fixed Wally with his steeliest glare, but Wally just smiled back at him.

"The reason 'why not' is because I am not a leader. It was never a skill I thought I would need."

"So you never developed it," Diana finished.

"Exactly."

Diana frowned, biting her lower lip. "This puts me in a bit of a bind. With my duties as Ambassador from Themiscyra, along with my regular work for the League, it will very difficult to fit in a third title as well."

"Clark managed," Wally offered.

"He was Superman," J'onn intoned. "The rest of us can't be expected to do be able to do the same." Wally was about to add something, but J'onn cut him off. "Diana makes the logical choice for leader," he said. "But, I think after we fill out our roster, we should also plan on separating Clark's role into pieces that can be handled by more than one person so the job isn't overwhelming to Diana," J'onn said. "We're also going to also have to find a metahuman with a skill set that includes being able to act as the spokesperson for the League as a whole, and competently explain our philosophy to the world at large."

"If we're looking for a League asshole…" Wally piped.

"Are you volunteering," Bruce asked with a smile.

"What? Hey!" Wally protested. Shayera and Hal grinned.

"I said 'League as a whole', not League asshole," J'onn corrected pedantically. "Before we get into the discussion of new members, there is one other pressing issue I want to bring up."

Diana turned to him. J'onn hadn't mentioned this before. "Like what?"

"Lex Luthor."

"Him again," Wally complained.

"What's Luthor done now?" Batman asked. "Ever since Lane ran those exposes on his company, the feds have been parked inside his building, tearing through all his finances." He smiled. "It seems unlikely that LuthorCorp will survive. The stock has already tanked and last I checked, it was running at three cents a share."

"Yeah, but isn't he also promising to pay back his investors from his own private funds?" Hal asked.

"Luthor promises a lot of things," Batman intoned.

"That isn't why I mentioned him," J'onn said. "At Superman's funeral, I listened to his mind. He called him 'Clark' and he called him 'brother'."

Bruce went still. "Luthor knew Clark's secret?"

"Yes," J'onn confirmed. "He had known ever since Clark gave him that transfusion. It's the reason why the criminal elements of the Five Hundred had their funding dry up, and why LuthorCorp seemed to take a turn into a legitimate business."

Wally whistled. "And he never tried to take out Clark or any of his loved ones."

Diana was watching J'onn's face. "He knew about others in the League, didn't he?"

"Lex Luthor is a brilliant man. In his own way, he's a smart as Bruce, but even more devious. Luthor took an interest in Batman when he appeared in Gotham at the same time as Bruce Wayne." J'onn turned to Bruce. "Two years ago, he uncovered your truth." J'onn turned to Hal. "Six months ago, you were exposed."

"What about me," Wally asked.

"Oddly, he didn't seem to care about you."

"What? I'm not important enough?"

"I didn't say that," J'onn corrected. "He just didn't care. There's a difference."

"So what do we do," Hal said, forehead beading with sweat. Clearly he was unhappy at this turn of events.

"Nothing," Diana said.

Bruce turned to her. "Nothing?" his voice was quiet menace.

"Nothing," Diana replied firmly. "What can we do? Kill him? We don't do that remember? Besides, he probably has instructions to release copies of those records upon his death." She shrugged. "So far, he hasn't done anything with that knowledge, and as far as we know, none of the Five Hundred know who we are. So we do nothing."

"And once Luthor makes his move?" Batman asked.

"Then we've got a problem to deal with," Diana answered with a grim smile.

"If that's the case, then let us move on to the matter of expanding the roster of the League," J'onn said. "I researched and interviewed the following candidates."

The meeting lasted well into the night, but when it was done the League had elected to bring in four new members: Zatana, Captain Atom, Steel, and Black Canary.

"Two more hot chicks in the League," Wally blurted out. "Woohoo!"

Shayera smacked him in the back of the head.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"And what brings an Olympian to my domain," rumbled Darkseid.

The throne room was meant to intimidate. Formed of unrelieved grey stone, flickering torches provided fitful light, casting strangely sinister shadows that seemed discordant and alive. Seated upon a basalt black throne, mounted high above the floor, his massive form exuding power and a coldly impersonal malevolence, Darkseid, the master of Apokolips loomed.

Ares sniffed. This so-called 'New God' was a mighty power, but such over-wrought menace as existed in his palace meant little to a true God like Ares. The Olympian was the God of War, and as such, he was used to the power of fear. It had little effect on him.

Ares looked up at the Lord of Apokolips. "I come to bring glad tidings," he said, pausing theatrically. When Darkseid simply gazed at him, not taking the bait and asking for what news Ares had, the God of War, grimaced. Finally, after a prolonged silence, Ares swallowed his annoyance at Darkseid's lack of reaction and continued on. "The one known as Kal-El, Superman is no more."

Darkseid smiled, a gruesome rictus. "And what is that to me?" he asked. "Earth no longer holds interest."

Ares smiled back. "So you say, but was it not on Earth that you suffered defeat?"

Darkseid continued smiling, but his eyes flared, relaying his anger. Any citizen of Apokolips would have known instantly to be silent before such a display. Ares, though, was bold and powerful, not to be intimidated by Darkseid. Or so he thought. In truth, he lived on through the Master's sufferance. The Olympian actually thought himself the equal or even the better of the Lord of Apokolips. The fool. Darkseid chuckled inside. Yes, he had a use for on such as this.

"Defeat or a strategic retreat, call it what you wish," Darkseid said. "I am still Master here, and that is all that need matter to you or anyone." He fixed Ares with a look that caused the Olympian to swallow in sudden fear. "Understand this: should I desire Earth, believe me when I say that I will take it; only so that I may incinerate it utterly and despoil it for all time. And there is nothing that you or your father can do to stop me."

Ares favored Darkseid with a bleak expression, one that had put fear in the hearts of many men and even some of his fellow Gods. From the master of this world, it drew a harsh bark of amusement. Ares frowned in irritation. When the thunderbolt was in his hands, he would see just how funny Darkseid would find him then.

"What is it you really wish, Ares?" Darkseid finally asked.

"Earth and Olympus," Ares answered immediately.

Darkseid chuckled, a sound like stones grinding. "So you have always desired. And what is it you hoped to accomplish by coming to Apokolips?"

Ares smiled. "I hoped to enlist your help."

"My _help_ does not come without cost, God of War. What is it that you offer in return?"

"My loyal and willing servitude as your regent on Earth for a period of one thousand years."

Darkseid stroked his chin. _Yes, he would use this fool_. "Go on," intoned the Master.

The two spoke deep into the night. They came to an agreement and smiled at one another, both of them knowing the other had betrayal in his heart.

Once Ares left, Darkseid sent for Kalabak. As usual, his spawn was found taking his pleasure from unwilling slaves in the Pit. It was likely that Granny Goodness – a truly ridiculous name for a woman feared the Universe over – would have to find several new slaves to replace the ones Kalabak had likely broken. Darkseid sighed when his spawn entered.

How disappointing. The get of his loins had the stature and strength to have been one of his finest lieutenants, but somehow Darkseid's elegantly tuned evil was simple brutality in his stupid and dim spawn. Not for the first time did the Master wish that it had been Kalabak, and not Orion, who had been sent to New Genesis to seal the peace between Darkseid and Highfather.

Now there was a man, Orion, who could have been molded into Darkseid's greatest champion. From Darkseid, he had inherited a full measure of intelligence and courage and an indomitable will. He grimaced in disgust. All that talent wasted by Orion's imbibing of the flaccid philosophy of New Genesis.

_Now comes the idiot _ Darkseid noted as Kalabak entered. The fool still had his shirt open and his pants weren't fully buttoned. The Master schooled his thoughts free of the disappointment and anger that he felt. Kalabak was a cretin, but he still had some cunning. He needed to be handled delicately.

"Kalabak, we have had a visitor."

Kalabak stared at his father, not sure how to respond. Truthfully, whenever he tried to please the Master, he always seemed to get slapped down for impertinence. Now, he simply hid his rough intelligence behind a veneer of lechery and stupidy. Not that he didn't enjoying brutalizing the slaves, both male and female. Rape was rape as far as Kalabak was concerned, but it did grow wearying at times. The only reason he kept up with it was so that his father would remain disgusted with him and have little cause to entrust him with anything that might resemble work. Kalabak was lazy and shiftless. He knew it and reveled in it.

Darkseid frowned. "Ares, the Olympian God of War was here," the Master said. "He had an interesting proposal." Quickly, Darkseid described the agreement he and Ares had come to.

Kalabak smiled, a cunning smirk. "And you plan on betraying him," he said, sounding inordinately pleased to have teased out that secret.

"Yes," Darkseid said, holding onto his patience. _Two thousand years old and has the fool ever known me to keep my word if it didn't suit my purpose? _"And this is your part in this matter. Now that Superman is dead…"

Kalabak had the temerity to yell with glee, interrupting the Lord. Darkseid's eyes flashed, and before the spawn could blink, the Master had leapt from his dais and smacked Kalabak across the room. Darkseid stood over the fool of a spawn, flames billowing from his eyes.

Kalabak pressed knees to floor. "I'm sorry father…" Another smack.

"I have no children and my get have no father," Darkseid said, menace dripping from his voice.

Kalabak bowed low. "I'm sorry, Master. I did not mean to interrupt."

Darkseid fixed him with an icy glare, causing Kalabak to break out into a sweat. A unintentional whimper escaped his lips.

Good. The whelp understood what it was to fear the Lord. Darkseid smiled. "Superman fought a creature known as Doomsday. Both he and the creature were killed in the battle." _Doomsday. With a name like that, and the power it must have possessed, the beast should have been a warrior of Apokolips._ Darkseid shook off those thoughts. "You will aid Ares in his conquest of Earth. The God of War will open a portal unto the island of Themiscyra, the home of Wonder Woman," Darkseid smirked. "There, you will lead the parademons to conquest. It should not be so hard since the greatest of Earth's so-called heroes is now dead, and none of those still left have the strength to oppose my forces. Wonder Woman is certain to come to this battle as it is her home. You and Ares are to capture her. She is to be brought to me alive so that she may bear a spawn for me, whether she wills it or not."

Kalabk dared to look up the Master, lustful hope in his eyes. "And when she has fulfilled your needs?"

Darkseid considered. "Break her in the Pit."

Kalabak smiled wide. "It shall be done, my Lord."

As Kalabak turned to leave Darkseid called him back. "Kalabak. If you are not victorious in this small task I set for you, it will be you who is sent to the Pit. I will break you personally."

Kalabak's smile died. "I will not fail, my Lord," he said, his voice quivering.

After his spawn left, Desaad slid free of his enveloping shadows. "And what is thy true bidding, my Lord."

"You heard my approach to Ares?" Darkseid didn't bother hearing Desaad's confirmation. "Kalabak is hard to kill, but the knife I gave to Ares should do the trick." He chuckled, a stone-grinding laugh. "As the get of Ares are as faithless and to him as he is to his own father, the War God did not see the deceit when I told him that the reason I wanted Kalabak murdered was because of my 'loss of confidence in Kalabak's loyalty'."

"You seek to earn Ares' trust." Desaad chuckled. "Imbecile! He actually believes that you would be willing to allow him to rule Earth in your name for a thousand years and then be set free."

"Yes. I have use for one such as he."

"You have a deeper plan?"

"The Olympians. They and the other Gods of Earth were raised to their station when that strange technology crashed upon their planet nine thousand years ago."

"The one called Vandal Savage as well."

Darkseid dipped his head in acknowledgement. "They are merely humans with the powers of their betters. But like all humans, they are lazy and stupid." He clasped his arms behind his back and strode out a side chamber as Desaad jogged to keep up. "They should never have been raised to Godhead," Darkseid mused. "They are ultimately only as strong as their human minds, which is the same as saying weak."

"Only Five Olympians still live," Desaad noted.

"Yes, they and seven Gods of other pantheons of Earth." Darkseid smiled grimly. "That is twelve Gods too many in this Universe where there should only be one God."

Desaad walked briskly at the Master's side, trying to understand the devious workings of his Lord's mind. "You'll allow Ares to kill Kalabak, thereby gaining his trust. And when the God of War turns his back…"

"I'll not kill him," Darkseid said, still smiling.

Desaad looked shocked. "You'll not?"

"No. when Ares and I will battle Wonder Woman, I will betray him and allow her to kill the War God. With her murder of Ares, Zeus will have no choice but to remove his gifts from her."

"And thereby also removing the champion of Olympus."

Darkseid nodded. "Yes, and without her presence, Olympus will be easy meat." He glanced at Desaad, the viper he trusted as much as he trusted anyone. "Long have I wanted to walk the streets of that vain city. I think it shall be doubling satisfying to do so on the same day I mount Zeus' head on a pike."

****

Lex Luthor slumped over the steering wheel of the old John Deere 7720 combine. The machine was old, over twenty years and had 8000 plus hours on it, but somehow Mr. Kent had kept it running, nursing it along rebuilding the engine and replacing parts when he could afford to do so. Right now, the old girl seemed to be running just fine. Smooth and easy. Well, as smooth and easy as a combine could get.

It was a good thing that Bessie – that was Mr. Kent's name for the old girl – was working so well. It was harvest season, and she was needed. The Kents couldn't afford for her to be down, not now with money so tight. Until the crops were in, the Kents needed to watch every penny. Sure they had a nice emergency fund built up, but they didn't want to have to burn through it if they didn't have to, and renting a combine because Bessie wasn't pulling her load definitely counted as wasting money.

"Shut her down, Lex, and get cleaned up," Mr. Kent said. "Martha won't let you in the house being that filthy." Mr. Kent wiped his own hands on a rag before heaing in, whistling.

When Martha had convinced Jonathon to give Lex a job, the old farmer was certain it would end in disaster. Martha, though, she pulled out the trump card: it was what Clark would have wanted. Jonathon had reluctantly agreed, but all the while he'd been sure that Lex had some sort of elaborate scheme in play. Even when Lex had emptied his bank accounts to pay off investors, Jonathon had been sure that somehow it wasn't legitimate; that Lex had a twisted trick up his sleeve. It was just so out of character for him to behave otherwise.

That was six months ago, and Lex had made a liar out of Jonathon: he had stuck with the job he'd been offered without complaint. He'd done all the work he'd been asked, dragging himself up to his spare bedroom at night after work until he'd built up his stamina.

Jonathon chuckled. Before coming to the farm, Lex had been pretty proud of the physical condition he kept himself in. His look of dismay, that first day of work, at being outworked by an old man had been priceless. Of course, he'd more than earned his keep since then. After Jonathon got used to Lex being around and figured he might just be trustworthy, he let Lex take a look at the books. Lex had asked for a day off and had spent that day on the phone with the banks that owned the notes on the Kent farmhouse and equipment; with the dealers from whom Jonathon bought his gas, feed, and seed stock. Even the utility companies. In the end, through better interest rates on the loans and negotiated discounts from various companies for being a valued customer, he'd be saving the Kents well over twenty thousand dollars this year.

Jonathon sighed. He was getting old, and every year, it had been a struggle to save enough money to make it to the next year without having to dip into their meager savings, or take another loan out on the farm. That extra twenty thousand should help to pay off most of their debts in five years. Lex believed they would be able to save even more money next year. He even believed that he could get a better price on their crops if they went green and sold to one of the local Metropolis organic grocery stores. Lex claimed they could potentially make 50% more per bushel than they were now.

Jonathon shook his head. All that just for doing what they'd always done. He wished he'd have known that twenty years ago.

"Is Lex still out there?" Martha asked as Jonathon came into the kitchen.

"He's just cleaning up," Jonathon said. "Let me help you set the table," he offered. "And put on extra helpings for him. He was busting his hump out there today."

"Earning his keep?" Martha teased with a smile.

"More than that," Jonathon said with an easy smile.

Martha's smile slipped. "It's going to be Thanksgiving in a few weeks," she said. "Diana promised to come this year, remember?"

Jonathon sat down heavily. "I remember," he said softly. "One of the last times we saw Clark."

"I called her. Or at least left a message for her at the embassy," Martha said. "I also invited Lois."

Jonathon looked up at her sharply. "You sure that's a good idea?" he asked. "She put Lex out of business, and she and Diana don't exactly get along."

"Lois could have been family," Martha said. "She and Clark were close. I spoke to her a month ago, and when she said she had no plans, I invited her." Martha began spooning out the food. "Truth is, Jonathon, I never even thought about her and Lex or her and Diana." She looked at him, her eyes glistening. "I just wanted all the people Clark loved to be with us."

Jonathon stood and embraced his wife, kissing her forehead. "What you did wasn't a bad thing," he said. "They all loved him."

Martha wiped at her eyes. "Even Lex?"

"I'm beginning to think the goodness in our boy must have somehow changed Lex when he gave him that transfusion," Jonathon said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lex said. "Clark didn't give a transfusion. It was Superman, remember?"

Martha and Jonathon startled. They hadn't heard Lex come in.

"Yes, of course. It was Superman," Jonathon said distractedly.

****

"Diana come in, dear," Martha said, bringing Diana in out of the cold. "You must be freezing in that dress. Why didn't you wear a coat?" she scolded.

Diana glanced at the light blue, knee length dress that she had on. It was a cottony, willowy thing, sleeveless and more appropriate for summer. After she'd seen it while out shopping with Donna, she knew she had to have it. It just looked so good on her. Besides, the color reminded her Kal's eyes.

"Mrs. Kent, you realize I don't feel the cold, right?" she said, laughing gently.

Mrs. Kent blinked. "Oh? That's right. I forget those kind of things sometimes. It's one thing when it was Clark we're talking about. He was so big and brawny, you'd expect something like that from him." She gestured to Diana. "You're just so feminine, it's easy to forget just how strong you are."

"Hi Diana," Lex said as he turned the corner.

Diana stared at Lex for a moment before turning to Martha, a quizzical look on her face.

"Lex started working here on the farm shortly after Lois' expose on LuthorCorp," Martha explained. She smiled, fondly Diana noted. "He's kind of a live in hired hand."

"Really?" Diana said, a distinct chill to her voice. Kal may have forgiven this snake, but she had not. She still recalled, in vivid detail, all the times this, this _vermin _had nearly killed her or other members of the League.

Martha twisted her hands anxiously as she watched the silent play between Lex and Diana.

Just then, Jonathon came in. "What's going on?" he asked. "Oh, hiya girl," he said, sweeping Diana into a hug and swinging her in a circle.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," Diana said, laughing as he set her down.

He glanced at Lex. "I see you've met the help," he said.

"Diana, why don't you and Lex go outside. I think you two have some issues to work out," Mrs. Kent suggested.

"Does Lois know he's here?" Diana asked.

"Of course she does," Jonathon said. "Why do you think she's coming?"

"To see him?" Diana asked, aghast.

Martha frowned. "Of course not, Diana. Don't be dense. It's to mock him for being in this fallen state."

"That woman does love to see the high and mighty put in their place," Jonathon mused.

Lex looked outraged. "Hey! I'm standing right here," he protested.

Martha sighed. "Yes you are. And I distinctly remember suggesting that you and Diana go outside to settle your differences. Be done in an hour. The turkey should be ready by then."

Diana and Lex shared a look of distaste before Lex headed for the back door. He mumbled something under his breath as he was leaving, something that sounded like 'bossy old hen'. Martha pretended not to hear. As Diana was pushing open the screen door to step out, Martha called out to her. "And no hitting, Diana!"

Diana winced. She'd been hoping to do just that.

A half-hour later, which was much quicker than Martha and Jonathon expected, the two came back in. Lex was sporting what promised to be quite a shiner.

"I said no hitting," Martha said, aggrieved.

"I didn't hit him, Mrs. Kent," Diana said sweetly. "I didn't realize it, but he's a rather clumsy fellow. He fell into the porch railing a couple times. I tried to catch him, but alas." She sighed dramatically. "It was not to be."

"You ok, Lex?" Jonathon asked, looking worried.

"I'm fine," Lex grumbled. "Just got what was coming to me I guess." This humility thing was really getting to be tiresome. He missed the power and influence he'd once wielded. It had been intoxicating at the time, but he was surprised by how glad he was that he no longer had it. He wasn't the right kind of man to be in charge of that kind of strength.

The past six months had been somewhat of a revelation for Lex. Being with the Kents, living on the farm and earning an honest living, it was healing. He could almost feel his soul being cleansed by the experience. He frowned. Maybe cleansed was too strong a word. With all that he'd done, he didn't imagine anyone could forgive him his sins. Still, even the fact that he saw them as sins, as crimes, that had to mean something, right? He didn't know what it all meant, but he knew he didn't want to go back to how things were.

"Lex Luthor," a voice from his past mocked. He turned. Standing in the doorway was Lois Lane. "Hiding out on the Kent Farm, eh? Pretty big fall for a one-time billionaire like yourself, I'd say."

"Hello, Lois," Lex said, as smoothly as he could. What was it about this woman that grated so? "You look as caustic as ever."

Lois smiled. "Now Lex, you're not still mad at me for putting you out of business, are you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Actually I'm grateful to you. The Princess and I were just discussing the changes I've made in my life."

Lois glanced at Diana. What was it about the color of her dress that was so familiar? She snorted. It didn't matter. As usual, the Wonder Babe was looking gorgeous and perfectly fit in whatever she was wearing while mere mortals like Lois had to work like crazy to keep the cellulite at bay. If there was a just God, He'd give Diana a huge zit right on the tip of her nose. Lois turned back to Lex and smirked. "Was that before or after she punched you in the face?"

"I didn't punch anything," Diana corrected. "Mrs. Kent warned me not to. He simply ran into the railing a few times." She shrugged. "He's much clumsier than I remember."

Lois gave a bark of laughter. "Well, I may not like you much, but it's still good to see you, Diana." She surprised Diana by hugging her.

"Do you and Lois need to go outside and work things out, too?" Jonathon asked Lex.

Lex put his hands up. "Umm. No. I'm pretty sure that by this point, we understand each other perfectly well."

"And he's probably afraid he'd run into the railing again anyway," Lois muttered.

"It's very doubtful that I'd let that kind of _accident_ ever happen twice in one day," Lex said. He stared at Lois and smiled, a strangely evocative and shark-like grin. It reminded everyone just who they were dealing with.

Lois was the first to turn away from his stare. "The house looks lovely, Mrs. Kent," she said taking Martha by the arm and leading her and Jonathon toward the front of the home.

Diana walked up to Lex. "Be very careful what you do around this people, Lex," she warned. "They are dear to me."

"And why is that, Diana?" Lex asked. "Just how is it that the famous Wonder Woman; Ambassador from Themiscyra and Princess of that island would come to know Martha and Jonathon Kent so well?"

Diana looked him in the eye. "You know why." She picked him up and slammed him against the wall. "Don't trifle with their feelings," she hissed. "Or mine." Knocking his face into the railing had felt so _good_, but it wasn't enough. How she wished she could wipe the smirk off his face forever. Killing him would be like putting down a rabid dog: it would be a service.

"You need to think about what you're doing, Princess," Lex said, not sounding concerned at all. "Clark saved me for a reason. If you love him as you said you did, then you should respect that."

She glared at him a moment longer before dropping him unceremoniously. She noted with displeasure that rather than tumbling into a heap, he landed on his feet, hardly even looking ruffled.

"I am sorry, you know."

"What?"

"I'm sorry for all the times I tried to kill you," Lex said. "I'm even more sorry for all the times I tried to kill Clark."

Diana snorted in disbelief. Did the snake actually expect her to believe him? "Your apologies mean nothing to me, Lex Luthor. You are an evil wretch."

Lex glanced at the floor, no longer able to face her anger. Would it be like this for him forever? Would no one ever be willing to give him a second chance? Clark would have, but he was gone. Lex sighed. _Brother, why did you have to die when I so need you?_

"What did you say?"  
Lex hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud. "What?"

"You said 'brother why did you have to die when I so need you'. Of whom were you speaking?"

Lex blinked, not sure he felt like answering. "Clark," he finally admitted.

Diana looked at Lex, astonished. "You thought of him as your brother."

"I always have. From the moment we became friends," Lex said, simply.

"And yet, time and time again, you tried to murder him."

"Well, in all fairness, I didn't know he was Superman," Lex said, defensively.

"And you learned the truth when he gave you the transfusion?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Kryptonians have a genetic memory for their emotions," Lex said. "There was only one person in this world who would think of me as his prodigal brother, and that person wasn't Superman."

Diana gave him a considering look. "What is it that you truly wish to accomplish here, Lex?"

An unexpected uncertainty appeared on Lex's face. "I'm not sure," he began, hesitantly. "I know my life has greater purpose than working on this farm, but I think I need to be here to learn to be the kind of man that can handle that kind of purpose."

Diana was confused. Lex exuded utter sincerity. He was a snake, and he could and had charmed all manner of folk with his smooth lies. His words were utterly untrustworthy. Still, Diana had been created to _know_ the truth, with or without her lasso. And what Lex was saying, he believed to the depths of his soul. Could he have really changed so much?

"It's Clark's blood," Lex said. "The moment the doctors gave it to me, it seems to have awoken my long dormant conscience. It's been getting worse and worse ever since. It got to the point that I actually began running LuthorCorp as a legitimate business." He chuckled ruefully. "Of course, that didn't absolve the company of all the other extra-legal practices it had been involved in prior to then; something Miss Lane was happy to dig up and turn over to the Feds."

Diana looked at him in consideration. "Is it true that you gave away all of your money to cover the losses by LuthorCorp's investors."  
Lex smiled his charming and crooked grin. "All but a few million," he said. At Diana's look of outrage, he laughed. "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf and become a good man," he said. "Not an angel."

Diana felt her lips turning up into a smile. She couldn't help it. She could understand why Kal would have loved this man. Had he not allowed himself to become so twisted with hate and jealousy, he could have been one of the world's great leaders.

After their conversation, Thanksgiving dinner ended up being a surprisingly friendly affair. Diana was proud of herself for not laughing at Lois' squawk of indignation when Mr. Kent told her in a polite but firm tone to stop antagonizing Lex. Lois glared at Lex, and for the rest of the meal, studiously avoided talking to him. She did draw Diana aside as they were readying desert, and asked her opinion on the matter of Lex being such a close member of the Kent household.

Diana winked. "I blame Kal," she said.

Lois gazed off, a thoughtful turn to her face. "He always saw the best in everyone," she mused. She turned her sight back to Diana. "But, Lex isn't just any normal person."

"No, he isn't," Diana agreed. "And yet, somehow, even in his death, Kal influences Lex; making the snake want to become the man he could have been."

"You really think Luthor's changed," Lois asked, surprised.

"Not completely," Diana said. "But the desire is there."

Lois shook her head. "You've got a much more optimistic outlook on life than I do."

Diana smiled. "I blame Kal for that as well."

Lois smiled. "Well, since he's not here, let's raise a toast and blame him together."

Diana lifted her glass, drawing the attention of the others. "To Kal," she said.

"To Clark," Lois answered.

"To our son," the Kents responded, tears in their eyes. It was their first Thanksgiving without Clark. How could someone they'd always thought of as indestructible have preceded them in death? No parent should have to know the pain of seeing their child dead.

"To my brother," Lex said, solemnly. The Kents nodded to him, accepting his knowledge of the secret they'd kept all these years.

"When you speak to the Russians, the first person on the phone is always some flunky. He's the insult," Lex explained. "If you actually argue with him, or worse, bargain with him, you lose all credibility for those with actual power. You're best off simply hanging up on him, and letting them call you back."

"And what if they don't call back," Diana asked.

"They will. If they want it badly enough, they'll eventually call," Lex said in assurance. "Now, that might mean that if they ask for help, you drag your feet after the initial crisis is over, but it will definitely send a message, loud and clear." He laughed. "And given how piss poor their building codes are and how much bribery and corruption have gone into everything they put their hands on, believe me: they'll need your help quite soon."

When Lois had asked how the League was going, Diana had explained some of the difficulties they had run into, the most annoying of which was getting certain nations to the negotiating table. So far, it had been like herding cats. The world was used to simply calling on the League when it was needed and taking their help for granted. That had worked fine in the past, but now that the League was trying to become independent, such a relationship couldn't continue. Once the world community understood there would be costs involved in the League's assistance, the nations of the world were balking, having no desire to negotiate prices for work that had previously been free. The worst was the Russian Federation.

Lex had excellent insights into the political infighting and wrangling that took place in the world; not too surprising given how adept he had been at running LuthorCorp. Diana felt like she was taking a Master's level class in political science just by talking to him. She hadn't even mentally called him a snake for hours.

With a start, she suddenly realized how late it was. Lois would be spending the night before heading back to New York tomorrow, and she was already upstairs, getting ready for bed.

Diana glanced at the clock. She was supposed to have been back to the embassy hours ago. "I didn't realize how late it was," Diana said, standing. "Thank you for your advice, Lex, but I think I've taken up enough of your time. It's time I got going." She was surprised by the warm tone in her voice. Diana turned to Martha and Jonathon, who were playing cards. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, thank you for having me over," she said. "I need to head on back to the embassy. I'm sure there's already a stack of things for me to do when I get there."

Martha and Jonathon stood as well. "It was wonderful seeing you again, dear," Martha said drawing her into a warm embrace. "Please stop by whenever you like, just like you used to do when Clark…" she sniffed, her eyes shiny.

"I will Mrs. Kent," Diana promised.

"Do you want to take some food with you?" Jonathon asked. "We've got plenty."

Diana smiled. "No thank you, Mr. Kent." She smoothed at her dress. "I've got to watch out for my girlish figure."

Mr. Kent laughed. "I doubt that's ever been much of a problem for you," he said, drawing her into a hug also.

She said her goodbyes to Lex and Lois as well before taking to the air, calling ahead to let Donna know that she was on her way. She glanced back at the quickly receding Kent farm. It had been a nice Thanksgiving, and surprisingly, Lex's presence hadn't detracted from her pleasure at being with the Kents. Her light blue dress caught her eyes. Sudden melancholy filled her. _Kal._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Incoming call," Zatanna said, her voice pitching higher in her excitement.

"Where," Canary asked

The new members were fitting in nicely. They'd been a part of the League for almost a year now, and until just recently, they'd always been paired up with one of the senior members when on monitor duty. Tonight was one of the first times a pair of newbies had mission control all to themselves.

"Riyadh."

Canary looked confused. "Riyadh? Where the hell is that?" she asked. She shook her head. "Nevermind. Just tell me what happened."

"Earthquake."

"Are they asking for our help?"

Zatana spoke into her vidscreen. A few seconds later, she looked up. "The Under-Secretary of the Interior, Mr. Abdul al-Abdullah, here," she said, gesturing to the screen with an expression of distaste, "demands to speak to a man."

"Great," Dinah muttered. "Why? Because we're women?"

Zatanna's face bespoke great disgust. "No. He says it's because I must be a whore to dress the way we do, and he doesn't speak to such women."

"What!" Canary exclaimed. "No fucking way. If he doesn't want to talk to us, then tell him to take his Bronze Age bigotry and stick it up his ass."

Zatanna looked at her, mouth agape in shock. "No way. You tell him that."

Dinah looked at her in annoyance. "Fine. Send the _Under-Secretary _over to my screen." On her monitor appeared the bearded face of an oily, smug looking man. His beard was closely trimmed, obviously barbered, and the fit of his clothes was perfect. He made Dinah's skin crawl.

Before Canary could get a word out, the Under-Secretary spoke. "I told the other whore I won't discuss this matter with whores," he said, sounding waspish.

_Motherfucker. _So, this little prick thought she dressed like a whore did he? Fine. Canary leaned over, giving Under-Secretary Abdul al-Abdullah a glorious view of her tits. She smirked as he ogled over her. Figures. Prick thinks that she and Z were whores, and didn't want to talk to them, but damn if he doesn't want to fuck them. Canary leaned back, and smiled, not missing the look of longing and disappointment on the Under-Secretary's face as she withdrew the girls from view.

"Mr. Abdullah, I can understand your concerns about your moral purity," she said, almost purring. "Can we not come to an arrangement. Just the three of us."

The Under-Secretary swallowed, his eyes large. "I am certain that would be most acceptable. I understand you can teleport people. Perhaps we can discuss these matters in…private."

Disgusted, Canary stabbed the mute button and turned to Z. "Did you hear that stupid fuck?" she asked. "He actually thinks he's going to get in our pants."

"Let me handle him," Z said. After Canary sent him back to her screen, she spoke with the Under-Secretary for a few minutes. She turned to Canary when her screen went blank. "Get Diana. Once the Under-Secretary realized he wasn't getting laid and his hard-on settled down, he went right back to the whore stuff. I hung up on him."

Canary whistled. "Serves the dumb fucker right."

"Yeah, but it doesn't serve the people in Riyadh who might need the League's help. I want to let Diana take care of this."

Canary called down to the Themiscyran Embassy, where Diana, for once, didn't have anything going on that night. After filling her in on the details, and answering a few questions that made her sweat a bit, Canary teleported Diana up to the Watchtower.

"Let me handle things when they call back," Diana ordered. Almost as though he had heard her words, just then the Under-Secretary was back on the line. "Mr. Abdullah, please get Prince Ahmad-Salman," Diana ordered, before the Under-Secretary got a word out. "You've wasted enough time as it is," she said.

The Under-Secretary's face grew red. "Those two whores flaunted their bodies at me. They tried to seduce me," he said.

"From space? You idiot! Get the Prince. Now!" At his continuing look of obstinance, she leaned in close. "Don't make me ask again," she said, her voice cold and deadly. "The Prince won't be pleased with your stupidity as it is."

The screen suddenly went blank as the Under-Secretary promised to get the Prince.

Dinah shivered, and glanced at Z. She leaned back so she could see Zatanna from behind Diana. "_She's a badass," _she mouthed.

Zatanna nodded agreement. _"Remind me never to piss her off," _she mouthed back.

Diana glanced between the two of them. "What are you two muttering about?" she asked, irritably. "And what was that idiot talking about with flaunting of bodies?"

Zatanna gave her wide-eyed look of innocence. "I have no idea, Diana," she said. "We handled the call just like you and the others told us."

"Uh huh."

Dinah smiled a sweet, almost unctuous smile. "And I was just telling Z how forceful and cool you are, oh great Leader. Maybe one day when I'm all grown up, I can be like you."

Diana quirked an eyebrow. "Ladies, you do realize that when the Gods created me, they gave me the ability to detect any lie?"

Zatanna and Canary shared a panicked look. "

Diana laughed. "Don't worry. As your _dear Leader_, I'm sure the two of you would never lie to me, right?"

Z and Canary chuckled nervously, while Diana shook her head at their antics. _Children._ Finally, the Prince was on.

The Prince was much more urbane and diplomatic than the Under-Secretary, but even he had some odd notions about what he could demand of the League.

"No, I don't think you understand your Highness, _I _am the leader of the League," Diana said. "As for personnel, several of the members are unavailable for a variety of reasons. There are two, Steel and Captain Atom who will be able to assist in search and rescue. I am available as well, and as the senior member, I will be coordinating our actions. I will require and expect full cooperation from your own military, police, and any other governmental agencies involved in rescue operations."

She listened to the Prince's next statement.

"No, I most certainly will not be wearing a hijab, much less a niqab. I am willing to compromise by wearing a more modest outfit that will cover me from neck to ankles. That is the extent to which I will bend to Saudi sensibilities. Understand though that the colors will be the bright ones for which I am known. It will not be a tent, but rather stylized armor, so by necessity, it will be somewhat form-fitting. And my hair will remain uncovered," she said.

She listened again.

"I understand your concerns, your Highness, but as you must practice your own cultural edicts, so we must practice our own. Ours do not allow us to submit ourselves or bend knee to any man, or the idea of the superiority of men." She shrugged. "We are who we are, and we will not violate our own moral compass in favor of yours. If you cannot abide by these rules of conduct, then we will stand aside during this tragedy."

Z and Canary shared a look of wonderment. The League not helping in an emergency? It seemed to go against the laws of nature.

The prince spoke again.

Diana answered. "No. I will not order or even allow the Captain or Steel to assist unless we come to an agreement on our deployment right here and now. If we ever are asked to assist your nation again, I, or any other female members of the League will dress modestly, but the choice in clothing and colors will be ours. We will cover our hair if we so choose. We will travel freely, and without a mahram acting as chaperone; and most definitely will we leave your nation as we wish, and without your government's approval, or again, that of any mahram. These terms are non-negotiable."

The prince seemed to think long and hard at her demands, before nodding his head in acceptance.

"Perhaps you should explain to your personnel the terms of our arrangement before we ship down," Diana suggested. "Call us when your men are prepared for our presence." With that, she killed the connection.

Canary whistled low and in admiration. "That was awesome, great Leader," she said. "I can't believe how you bluffed that prince into thinking we wouldn't help."

Diana turned to her. "First, stop calling me 'great Leader'. It sounds like something from North Korea, which is frankly, quite disgusting. Second, it wasn't a bluff."

Zatanna's mouth opened and closed in astonishment. "It wasn't?" she finally got out. "But, Diana, all those people who might be hurt, who might die, the children…"

Diana sighed. "Do not say, 'think of the children'," she warned. "So much evil disguised as good has come from that simple phrase." She ran her fingers through her hair. "The principle of our freedom to live and exist as we choose needed to be upheld. We can't let the possible deaths of others, no matter how tragic or innocent, be used as a bludgeon to force our help. That was what this was about: are we allowed to live as we want without governments or individuals forcing us to act as they dictate. If I had acquiesced to the Prince or the Under-Secretary," her lip curled in distaste, "then we would always have had to do and be and act only as such people allow and demand. We would have enslaved ourselves."

"And not saving those people?" Canary asked.

"You speak of emotional blackmail, Dinah," Diana said. "I won't fall victim to that sort of thinking. I demand that we have the right to be free." She turned to Zatanna. "Or do you believe that we should be slaves to our powers and responsibilities?"

Zatanna thought about Diana's question. "No," she said, finally. "It just seems so cold is all."

"It doesn't make it any less true," Canary replied.

"Consider what you wish to be."Diana said, and with that, she turned and left. "Please inform Steel and Atom of the situation," she called over her shoulder. "I'll be in my room changing." _Into the Kryptonian armor Kal had given her as a gift. Would everything remind her of him?_

_****  
_

Amal al-Anazi watched as a woman strode the streets of Riyadh with no hint of modesty. The woman was tall, taller than almost all the men, and she wore tight blue clothing that looked like armor. The apparel shamefully hugged every curve of her body. No doubt, every man that saw her was filled with lust and impious thoughts. Her hair, a lustrous hue like the color of midnight, hung long and uncovered, swaying to her every movement. Amal had never seen a more beautiful woman. Most remarkable, she ordered men. It was a startling display to say the least. There was a presence about this woman, a strength of character and a sense of accustomed command that seemed to cow even the dreaded Mutaween, the Committee for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice.

Walking alongside her were two men, both remarkable in appearance. If a tank could be made human, than that was what one of the men appeared to be. He made noises when he walked, like metal grinding. The other was also tall and powerfully built, but he was grey, almost completely so, and the same color as the barrel of a gun, except for a strange red symbol on his chest.

Everyone stepped aside as the trio passed by, some making the sign against Shaitan, but all were clearly awed. The woman gestured, and Amal gasped. Coming to her, looking as meek and frightened as mouse approaching a hungry lion, was Abdul al-Abdullah, the Under-Secretary of the Interior. He bobbed his head at her words, clearly agreeing with whatever it was she was saying to him.

Who was this woman? She ordered men about as though she was a general, and strode through Riyadh as though she was a queen. Even the two strongly built men standing alongside her seemed deferential to her. It was clear: this woman was in command.

Amal wasn't sure what to make of this, but of one thing she was sure: the woman was power, a kind of power that Amal had never conceived of seeing within Saudi Arabia. Clearly she was from the West, and it was well known that Western women were allowed to be strong and stand alongside their men.

Such was not the way of the Kingdom.

This was Mohammed's birthplace, and Allah had chosen him as the instrument of His Divine will. It was clearly written the boundaries that men and women should not cross.

Seeing the trio, though, especially the woman, Amal couldn't help but wonder at the different ways of Islam in other countries; pious places in which women could be strong and open about their femininity. Why not here?

Amal cried out in surprise. The two men had leapt into the air and flew off like djinn. Who were these people? She smiled suddenly. Suddenly, it came to her, and she knew who these strangers were: they were members of the Justice League. That must mean that the woman was Wonder Woman, Diana, a princess in her own right, and the idolatrous worshipper of false gods.

It was said that this Diana had slain a thousand men, who upon seeing her beauty, had been filled with desire and tried to ravish her. Now, no man dared look the princess in the eyes, so fearful were they that she might see the lust in their eyes and take their life for their iniquity. Amal wasn't sure how true those stories were. Wonder Woman didn't look like a murderer. Still, as she glanced at the members of the Mutaween, and saw their fearful reactions, perhaps there was some truth to the stories after all.

Amal watched, envious as the princess lifted into the air, leaving behind all the small and petty men who sought to bind her beauty. She chuckled at seeing the fearful reactions of the Mutaween as the princess left, and their futile gestures of warding against evil.

_Why not here? _Amal mused.

****

_The creature burned, its skin cracked and charred to ash, only to heal and start the process all over again. It cried out in anguish, the heat pouring into its mouth and burning it up from the inside out. Vocal cords were ruined and lungs were filled with the charred remains of bronchioles and alveoli. They too healed. How long the cycle lasted the creature didn't know. It only knew it wished the pain to end._

_Over and over, birth and death followed by rebirth followed by death. The cycle of agony went on and on, leaving the creature twitching with anguish. Another birth, and the creature winced, waiting for the livid torment, but it didn't come. The creature no longer burned._

_It reveled in the ecstasy of simply existing, joyous at the lack of pain. It rubbed its bald pate, feeling its smooth face. No eyebrows, eyelashes. Hairless. No doubt burned off by the previous cycle of its death. That wouldn't do._

_The creature concentrated, and from its scalp, growing in itchy strands came hair, dark and thick, pouring forth like water from a fountain until it reached to the creatures thin shoulders._

_It rubbed at itself. Once it had been well-muscled and powerful. Now: so thin, and so weak._

_Knowing that the cycle of birth and death was broken, the creature took stock of its situation. It didn't recall anything. It didn't even know its own name. Its mind was a blank slate. A word came, and suddenly it knew where it wanted to be, and it wasn't here. With a burst of its weakened muscles, it smashed its way out of its prison and scanned the heavens, surprised at how close was its destination. It headed to Earth._

_****  
_

"Donna, hold all my calls," Diana said as she strode into the Themiscyran Embassy. "I'm beat."

Donna, much shorter and far less glamorous, but still quite lovely in her own right, trailed after her elder sister, the woman she always strived to emulate. "How did things go in Riyadh?" she asked.

"Fine. Other than the fact that I had to put up with the leering and lusting of men who still think we live in the Dark Ages," Diana said in disgust. "Remind me never to complain about how bad women have it in the West."

"So, the SAR is over?"

"Our part of it, yes," Diana said. "We've done what we can, but when the Saudi government learned that they would be on the clock for further aid, they told us to pack it in." Diana sighed. "I imagine that's what most governments will do."

"So the funding for the League is still going to be somewhat scarce?"

"It seems likely," Diana said. "I have no idea how we're going to be able to pay for our operations without a revenue stream of some kind. J'onn is so fed up with dealing with parliaments and Congress, and…nevermind. I need some sleep. I've been up for five straight days."

Donna gasped. "Wasn't there anyone else to take over for you?"

Diana grimaced, her face growing solemn. "No. Kal and I usually partnered up for these kind of clean-up details," she said, wistfully. "He was the only one who could keep up with me." Atom and Steel caught a few breathers when they were spelled by Hal and Shayera and J'onn, but," she shrugged. "No such luck for me."

"Get some rest, then," Donna said, sympathetically. "I'll take care of anything that comes up."

"Thanks, sis," Diana said. She floated up to her rooms, unclasped the armor and wrinkled her nose. Five days of work and sweat and dirt and sand and desert heat. She smelled ripe. She took a quick shower and climbed into bed, falling asleep instantly.

It seemed like her head had just hit the pillow when Donna was waking her.

"Diana, it's mother. She says she needs you back on Themsicyra at once."

"What?" Diana mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Wake up," Donna repeated, ready to shake her sister if need be.

"I'm awake," Diana said, sitting up. "How long was I asleep?"

"Four hours."

Diana sighed. "No rest for the wicked." She stretched and stood. "Let mother know I'm on my way," she said.

A few hours later, after showering again and putting on her Themiscyran whites, Diana floated down in front of her mother's palace, the guards waving her in.

"Where is she?" Diana asked one of them.

The guard licked her lips, seeming nervous. "In your rooms, Princess," she answered.

If the guards were feeling anxious, then her mother must be in a truly foul mood. Diana floated up the stairs, and pushed open the doors to her suite. Within the large sitting room sat Hippolyta. Surrounding her stood five members of the household guard, swords drawn.

Diana paused on the threshold, suddenly worried. What could have caused her mother to barricade herself in Diana's rooms like this? "What's happened, mother," she asked, rushing inside and kneeling by her mother's feet.

"In there," her mother pointed.

Diana turned to where she was gesturing: the doors to her bedroom. She glanced at the guards. "They were unable to handle this?"

"No one can handle this," her mother said, chuckling ruefully. "That's why we called for you." She clutched at Diana's arm as her daughter stood and moved toward the bedroom doors. "Careful Diana. This is a danger unlike any you have ever faced."

Diana looked into her mother's eyes, unsure of what she was seeing within them. She shook off the queen's hand and walked to the door, carefully pushing it open. She slipped within and immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to make herself an easy target. The curtains were drawn, and the windows were closed, as well as being newly barred from both the inside and out. Something new. Her mother wasn't taking any chances here.

Diana let her eyes adjust to the dark and noticed a tall, thin form stretched out on her bed. She shifted closer, taking in more features. It was a man. A man? What in Hera's name was a man doing on Themiscyra? She couldn't believe her mother hadn't already tossed him back into the waters.

She leaned closer. The covers had slipped down and Diana noticed the wide shoulders. Once this had been a big man, but now, his chest seemed to have collapsed on itself, all muscle wasted away. She noticed the pinched look to his cheeks and the hollowness to his temples.

She inhaled sharply, her hand going to her mouth. This couldn't be! He was dead.

Her gasp must have awoken him. He unshuttered his eyes, and his cerulean gaze held her own.

"Kal?"

"Is that my name?" he asked.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Diana looked at him, not knowing what to think or say. He looked like Kal, but he didn't _look _like Kal. His features were the same, but there was a depth to his face, a wisdom, that was missing. His eyes were the same blue hue as Kal's, but this man's seemed boyish, almost naïve or young. Kal had been a big man, powerfully built, but somehow lean in appearance. The man lying in her bed here on Themiscyra – now that was a statement she never thought she'd ever make – was emaciated and rail thin. He was nothing but skin and bones.

He sat up and gazed at her curiously. Diana took a quick step away from him. This most certainly wasn't Kal. Ringing his forearms, were vambraces, identical in shape to the ones they'd placed on Kal on his final journey, but, whereas Kal's had been blue, this man's were purple.

"Am I Kal?" he asked.

Diana schooled her face to stillness, hiding the bitter disappointment. It was not this man's fault that he looked like Kal. "No," she answered. "I'm not sure who you are."

He smiled and suddenly Diana wasn't so sure. His face held the same warm and welcoming smile as Kal's. "Am I in Heaven then?" he asked. "Are you an angel?"

Diana smiled gently. "No to both questions."

Strangely, he seemed happy at her words. "Then you must be Diana."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Did someone tell you that?"

He shook his head. "No." He hesitated, looking confused. "I don't know who I am or anything," he said. "All I can remember is wanting to go home." He looked at her. "Are we on Earth?"

"Yes." He seemed so lost and innocent.

"And you are Diana?" he asked again.

"That's right," she said, understanding now that this man, whoever he was, must have amnesia. "Do you remember anything else?"

He shook his head again. "When the pain ended, the only thing I could remember, the only thing I can still remember was wanting to come home, to Earth. That and your face and name. It seemed like you were someone special…Were we in love?"

She rocked back. The Fates were truly cruel to bring this man into her life; he looked and sounded like Kal, but was nothing like Kal. "The man you look like, Kal-El, he never loved me like that," she answered.

He looked puzzled. "Why?"

She ignored his question, and asked one of her own. "You said you that you had been in pain. Can you tell me about that?"

He grimaced. "I don't like to think about that," he said, looking down. In a soft voice, he added. "It hurts."

Diana looked at him, this woefully thin man, who wore Kal's face and had a strange and guiless way about him. What was she supposed to do with him?

He glanced up at her. She looked unhappy. With sudden alarm, he worried that she was angry at him. He didn't like that. He didn't like seeing her sad. He didn't know who he was, or who she was, but he knew he didn't like disappointing her. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The burning time was so frightening; his mind flinched just from the thought of it. He swallowed his fear. If Diana wanted to know about it, then that's what he would tell her.

"I remember pain," he began in almost a whisper. "I burned."

Diana wasn't sure what he meant. "Go on," she encouraged.

"I remember coming awake and seeing water blisters form on my skin from the heat. They would pop, like bubbles, and then my skin would blacken and char, like meat on a fire. I could feel my eyes boil away. The last thing I would see was blood as my eyes bled out. " He shuddered and hugged himself, rubbing his thin arms. "I would cry out from the pain of it all, but no sound would come. The heat would get into my lungs and stomach, like a thousand hot knives, cutting and baking me from the inside out." A tear leaked out of one of his eyes. "Then, I would die, and I wouldn't feel anything for a long time." He looked at her, a bleak expression on his face. "I liked that best; when I was dead." He shuddered again. "But, it wouldn't last, and I would come back alive, and the hurt would start all over again." He looked away. "I don't know how many times it happened, but there came a time when it finally ended, and I stayed awake."

Diana gasped, horrified. Every word that he had just said was true. He felt it with a certainty that was unquestionable. "Who would do such a thing to you?" she asked, outraged at his suffering.

"The sun."

She blinked. "The sun?"

"That's where I woke up the final time," he said. "I don't know exactly where I was, but it was close to it. "Maybe near the corona?" He frowned. "Is that a word? Corona? The sun isn't a beer, is it?"

Diana laughed. "No, the sun isn't a beer, and yes it does have a corona," Diana said. "It's something called a plasma atmosphere." Suddenly Diana grew excited. The sun. That's exactly where Kal's body had been sent. "Do you remember anything else?"

"How hot is the corona?" the man asked, disregarding Diana's question. "I keep thinking two million degrees, but that can't be right. No one can survive that." He reconsidered his words. "Of course, I didn't either. I kept getting burned up." His head tilted in confusion. "How did I get here from the sun? I remember just...moving myself somehow. I was wearing some kind of blue armor when I got here," he said, "but I know I didn't have a helmet or anything." He was upset and looked almost frantic. "What am I?" he asked. "Am I even human?"

Diana went to him. "Calm yourself," she said, squeezing his hands and trying to settle him down. "I may be able to answer some of your questions, but I need to know anything else that you might remember." She pointed to the vambraces. "Tell me about those. Where did you get them."

"I woke up wearing them," he said, confused.

"And they were always purple?"

"No, until the final time I woke up, they were always blue," he said, sounding surprised. "How did you know?"

Diana smiled. "Your armor, what happened to it?"

"I don't know. All I can remember is wanting to come home, and wanting to travel as fast as I could." He shrugged. "I woke up here." He looked fearful. "Am I human?" he asked again.

Diana didn't answer. A joy that she tried to rein in, but couldn't suddenly filled her. Could it really be him? Had the sun, the source of his powers, healed him? She opened the doors to her wardrobe, a gift from the Greek Prime Minister when Themiscyra became known to the world. Standing within, hanging from hooks and wooden hangers was an instantly recognizable set of blue armor, a stylized 'S' standing proud on the chest piece.

Diana turned, her eyes bright. "You need fear no longer about your heritage or who you are."

Kal looked at her, curious, but also unsure. "You look glad, but your eyes are wet. Why would you cry if you're happy?"

"Because my best friend, who I thought was dead, is alive. You _are_ Kal."

He smiled. "My best friend is the most beautiful woman in the world? And I'm not in love with her?"

Diana blushed. "It seems that physical beauty is not the most important thing for you."

"And yet, you are the only person I remember," he said.

"I suppose so," Diana said. Once he regained his memories, it was likely that all this talk about her beauty and questions of why he wasn't in love with her would evaporate. "We need to talk." She walked back to the bed and sat next to him. "Your name is Kal-El. You were sent here to Earth from the planet Krypton. Your father, Jor-El, was a scientist, and he was the only one who understood that Rao, Krypton's sun, would soon explode into a supernova. He and your mother, Lara, placed you in a small ship and sent you here."

"To this island?"

Diana smiled. "No. We'll get to that in a bit," she said. "You were sent to a place called Smallville, Kansas, where you were loved and raised by your adoptive parents, Jonathon and Martha Kent."

He suddenly brightened. "I know those names," he said. "I can even picture them." Just as quickly, he deflated. "I don't remember anything else about them though." He gave Diana a hard look. "You aren't making this up are you? It sounds suspiciously like the story of Moses."

Diana looked astonished. "You remember that story?"

Clark frowned in concentration. "No, but it sounds like it was what I was thinking of," he said. "Would the story you just told me also sound like the story of Moses?"

Diana gave his question serious thought. "In some ways, very much so," she answered. "But rather than raised by a king, or in the case of Moses, pharaoh, you were raised by farmers."

"So, I was a farmer, too."

Diana laughed. "That was what you said you always wanted to be, but that wasn't what you actually were."

"What was I?"

"You _are _a hero," she said, explaining his life as Superman, the forming of the League and its other members, as well as the powers that he possessed.

He looked at her skeptically. "You're telling me that I can fly; I have strength enough to lift a mountain, I have something called 'heat vision' and X-ray vision?" He snorted and turned away. "I don't know why you would think it amusing to tell me such lies," he said. "But it's not funny."

Diana gently cupped his cheek. So thin, she could feel his jaw riding directly under her fingers. "Kal, you were in the corona of the sun, remember? A place that can, in fact, get to two million degrees. You were in outer space without a suit. If you consider it in that context, why is it so hard to believe what I told you?'

He thought about her words for a few minutes before breaking out in a chuckle. "I guess not hard at all when you put it that way."

An easy silence existed between them before Kal spoke again. "How did I end up out there," he asked, waving toward the sky. "Did someone hate me that much?"

Diana stood and walked away, not sure how to explain what had happened. "This part won't be so easy for you to understand," she said.

Kal looked at her. There was something she didn't want to say. "What is it?" he asked. "I need to know my past."

"Kal, you've been gone from the Earth for a little more than a year," she said. "The last time I saw you alive, you were in fight to the death against a monster you called Doomsday. It is a fight you lost."

He looked startled and confused. "But, I'm still alive," he said. "How could I have lost?"

"After the battle was over, both you and Doomsday were dead." She grimaced. "At least that's what we thought," she said, pacing and rubbing her arms as though nervous. That monster. All the pain it had caused. All that it had taken from her and all the people of New York. And it couldn't have the decency to stay dead after being killed. She turned to face him. "Doomsday started to heal, and so we placed the creature in stasis and sent him to the Phantom Zone, a tachyonic prison, where time moves very slowly."

"What about me?" he asked.

Diana pursed her lips. How would he take what she had to tell him? "You died in the battle also, Kal-El," she said, softly. "At least we thought you had died. Your heart had stopped; there was no brain function that we could detect." She shook her head. "I've seen you badly hurt, but nothing like what Doomsday did to you." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "We thought you were dead so we – the League and your parents – placed you in a small spaceship and sent it to the sun." She peered intently at him, gauging his reaction.

He blinked, surprised. A moment later, his brow furrowed. "You sent me there?" he said, confused as well as angry.

"Yes," Diana said, looking him in the eye. "We did. We thought you had died," she repeated. "The sun has always been the source of your power, so we thought it appropriate that it be your final resting place."

He stared at her in shock and disbelief. _She _had done this to him. _She _had been the reason for all of the torment he had endured. Why would she have betrayed him like that? He looked more closely into her face and saw the sorrow and shame and horror etched upon her perfect features. No. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't known that he had still been alive. She couldn't have known. Everything else had said otherwise.

Still, knowing what she had done, it still hurt. He didn't know why it hurt so bad, but it did. Even though he couldn't recall anything about her, being hurt by her seemed like one of the most terrible things he could imagine. The only thing worse was hurting her himself. Who was Max Lord? He shook his head, unable to recall what his emotions were telling him. "I think I need to be alone now," he said, upset.

Diana nodded, tight and coiled. She was remorseful at the anguish and agony she had unintentionally caused him. "Of course," she said. "We'll talk later."

She gently shut the doors and leaned against them, eyes closed for a moment. How could they have known he was alive? Had he really experienced what he had told her? Burned alive over and over again until he was finally healed enough that his body became immune to the Sun's heat? What torment he must have endured.

She shook her head and opened her eyes, realizing that her mother and the five household guards were still present. Other than her mother, who viewed her with mild curiosity, the others looked upon her with varying degrees of disdain or hostility. Diana was surprised by their expressions until she glanced at their patches. That explained it. They were of the Gorgon Watch, all of them were Bana,

"Is he who he appears to be?" Hippolyta asked.

"It seems likely," Diana answered.

"Even so, there is a man on our island," she said, leveling Diana a look that bespoke a distinct lack of pleasure at the idea. "The laws of our island are quite clear on this subject."

Diana disregarded her mother's words. "How did he get here?" she asked.

Hippolyta glanced at the guards. "Wait beyond the doors," she said. The queen watched as the Gorgon Watch filed out, listening for them to take up their positions outside of Diana's quarters. After the doors had been closed and they were no longer milling about, she turned to her daughter. "He fell from the sky, moving east to west and travelling so swiftly that the Sentinels never even had a chance to warn us. The Centaur fields and Dryad's Groves were set ablaze by his passage," she said. "He plowed through them, burning them to ash before smashing into the temple of Athena. The Goddess' house was reduced to glass."

Diana's frowned. "Don't you mean rubble?"

"No," Hippolyta corrected. "The marble columns and statues were obliterated to sand, and the heat boiling off of him turned the sand into glass." She shrugged. "Anyway, we think he bounced a few times after that because there are a few mile long trenches pointing back to the temple remains." She shuddered. "Thank Hera he missed our home, or it would likely have ended up like Athena's temple. He finally came to a stop after cutting a five mile furrow into the beach," she said. "That's where we found him, wearing the armor and the vambraces."

"So what happens now?"

Hippolyta sighed. "What happens now is that the Council will convene tomorrow and decide his fate." She gave Diana a hard look. "The law is very particular when it comes to his very presence on Themiscyra," she said.

"He will be removed from the island," Diana said, somewhat relieved that her mother and the Council would not seek a greater punishment.

"Banishment is the least of his concerns," her mother said. "His actions will also need to be taken into account. After all, many centaurs and dryads were killed or badly injured when the fields and groves went up. They and the Bana, demand retribution."

Diana gazed at her mother, trying to judge her mood. "And what do you think?"

"_I_ think I will follow popular sentiment."

Diana pursed her lips. "And you have no independent thought on this matter? You have no desire to lead _popular sentiment_ so that we don't simply have an ochlocracy? Are you so fearful of our people then?"

Hippolyta smirked. "If that were the case, he would be dead already."

"So instead, you're going to give him a sham trial and then condemn him to death."

Hippolyta rolled her eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic, girl. He is just a man."

"He is mine," Diana said with heat. "And I promise you this: no one will harm him. Not you, not the Council, no one. They'll have to go through me first." Iron, as unyielding as the bracelets on her wrists suffused her voice.

"The Bana want his head. There have been troubles enough between them and us over matters that are frankly much more trivial than this."

"Such as my reports from the Patriarch's World?"  
"That and the choices you've made since becoming Champion of Olympus." She gave Diana a hard look. "They think you weak, or worse, a man-lover."

"They will find out how weak I am if they attempt harm to Kal."

"The choice of his fate will be in the hands of the Council. Not yours."

Diana stared at her mother, piecing together words said and unsaid. Posture; the slant of her eyes; the tilt of her head; so much could be conveyed by the queen in ways that required no voice.

It was clear. In this matter, her mother had acted as far as she was willing and able, simply by allowing Kal to live until Diana's arrival. The queen risked losing standing and perhaps even her throne if she pressed for more. Removal from the island, as had happened to the occasional man who had washed upon Themiscyra's shores from capsized boats in storms or war, would not suffice in this situation. The Amazon nation would accept nothing less than Kal's life.

"I will not allow it," Diana promised.

Hippolyta looked at her daughter in amazement. "You would risk a civil war over him?" she asked. "You would pit your sisters against one another over love of a _man?"_ She looked simultaneously outraged and disgusted.

"Yes." Simple and direct, that's what her mother most often responded to. In this case, Diana's defiance was certain to force Hippolyta into using her power as queen. If Diana was correct, than the old spider would say something she would either regret, or provide an opening for Diana to leave with Kal unharmed. Diana hated thinking of her mother like that, but it was the truth. The queen had lived too long, and had learned the art of political expediency too well. Did she even have a core belief anymore, other than preserving her power?

True to form, her mother, who until now had remained seated, stood, standing tall and proud, every inch the immortal monarch of Themiscyra. "You will do as you are told, child. Do not test me upon this matter," she said, her voice cold and bitter as a northern winter wind.

Diana very deliberately turned her back on her mother. She needed witnesses for what was to come next. She opened the door and turned to face her mother. "I will do as my conscience demands," she said. "He will leave here unharmed."

Hippolyta's face turned white. "You _dare_," she growled. She glared at her daughter, who stood there scornful and defiant, a pleased smirk on her face. Arrogant child. "I am queen on Themiscyra, and I swear upon my throne and Hera's promise that should you disobey me in this, you will share his fate!"

"As you will, mother," Diana said, now sounding humble and dutiful.

The Gorgon Watch, still standing guard beyond the door, glanced at one another in shock. They had all of them heard that final sentence. It was not a pledge that could be withdrawn. As one, they turned and looked at Diana with mingled pity and horror. Several peered into the room at an ashen-faced Queen Hippolyta, who just now understood the enormity of what she had just said. And done.

"You insolent fool," the queen hissed.

"My queen," Artemis, the leader of the Gorgons said. "I am not sure I heard anything to cause your anger."

Hippolyta raised her chin, masking her fury as best she could beneath the arrogance of her queenly dignity. "The words have been spoken," she said. "Once made, the vow cannot be undone. Her fate will be as his." The queen was in shock. She couldn't believe that her daughter had so masterfully lured the queen into such folly. If she weren't so angry, she'd be proud. "His care and charge or yours until the Council meets tomorrow," she said to Diana. With her head held at a haughty angle, she swept from her daughter's chambers, taking the Gorgons with her, some of who glanced back at Diana, shaking their heads.

"The dice is rolled," Diana muttered. "We'll see just how good mother really is."

****

"The child played me like a lyre, Phillipus," Hippolyta said, glancing up as the General entered the queen's library.

"What are you doing?" Phillipus asked.

The queen laughed, bitterly. "Trying to find some way to get out of the damn fool oath that twisted little serpent of a daughter tricked me into making," she answered. She tossed a scroll onto her desk with an oath of disgust. "Hera's whores! The child will be the death of me."

Phillipus took in the pile of scrolls and books littering the chairs and stools and desk; anything with a horizontal surface. It looked as if the queen had pulled down half the library, discarding and piling the items until they teetered precariously, ready to fall at the slightest touch. "I take it the object of your search continues to elude you."

Hippolyta glared at her general with a sour look. "No, Phillipus, I found the answer with the first scroll I pulled down," she said, sarcastically. "All these others," she gestured around her, "are simply for decorative purposes."

"I see," Phillipus said. "In that case, allow me to congratulate you on the on the efficiency of your search and the lovely décor of your library. Love what you've done with the place."

The queen grunted. "Why doesn't sarcasm ever work with you."

Phillipus' lips quirked into a half-smile. "One of my gifts, I suppose."

Hippolyta threw her hands in the air. "What am I going to do, Phillipus?" she asked, suddenly distraught. "She will either die or be banished. Neither proposition is one that I can accept." She looked to be in tears. Right now, she was no longer the legendary queen of three millennia, but simply a mother fearing for her daughter's life.

"You know what must be done," Phillipus said. "Diana must be preserved. Prophecy speaks of what she may yet accomplish."

"Foreign prophecies from foreign Gods," Hippolyta spat.

"A true prophecy from the one true God," Phillipus corrected, almost in a whisper.

Hippolyta froze, her face tense. "Do not say any more, General. No one must know of it."

"Especially the Olympians."

Hippolyta nodded, fearful of saying the words lest the Gods hear.

"Then you will do it," Phillipus said.

"She must be banished," Hippolyta agreed, her voice small and unhappy. She shook her head. "All this over a man," she said, in disbelief. "He better be worthy of her sacrifice or as Hera is my witness…"

"My queen, perhaps you've made enough vows this day," Phillipus suggested.

Hippolyta laughed harshly for a moment. "Yes, perhaps you're right," she agreed.

****

"Hello, Kal, it's me," Diana said, knocking on her bedroom door. "Can I come in?" She snorted. The utter absurdity of having to ask permission to enter her own bedroom. It would have made her laugh if she wasn't so nervous. What if Kal said no?

Right now, butterflies flitted madly within her stomach; anxious sweat beaded her forehead; and her heart pounded out of control. She had tried everything she could think of to distract herself from her fears. She had tried to read; tried to play the guitar; even half-heartedly tried to paint, but none of it had worked. She couldn't get the worry out of her mind.

"Come on in," he said. "It is your room, after all."

She smiled, her heart slowed and some of the nervous energy that had been building like an offshore storm blew apart into a gentle rain. There was no mistaking the welcome and warmth in his voice. She smoothed the fabric of her chiton before entering, chiding herself for her vanity. How she looked, or how he thought she looked should be the last thing on her mind given the grave importance of tomorrow morning's Council meeting.

He was sitting up in bed. "You're still be most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said, a small smile on his face. "Somehow, I'm sure of it. Are you sure we don't love one another?"  
She blushed. He wasn't Kal, not completely, but hearing the question posed that way from his lips, it still made her wish she could answer 'yes'.

He was frowning. "It bothers you when I complement you."

"Yes," she answered. "It is because there is another in your life."

"Then why is it that I feel such a strong connection to you and not this other?"

"I cannot answer that question," Diana answered. "What we know about Kryptonians comes from an '_n_' of 1, which is to say, all that we know is anecdotal. We don't have enough information to really make any conclusions."

He was staring at her, bemused. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "You were speaking English, I think …" he trailed off. "Have you always been so smart and scientificy?"

She laughed. These were the moments when she knew without a doubt that she wasn't talking to Kal. Her Kal had been extremely bright, although he tended to hide it. Just another way for him to more easily fit in, she guessed. And 'scientificy' was definitely not a word in his vocabulary.

"Yes, I was speaking English," she said. "All I was telling you was that if we wanted to do a study on Kryptonians, you are the only Kryptonian we know of. Therefore, the size of our study, the number of people in it, is 1. Such a small study population would mean that anything we learned may not necessarily be applicable to the general Kryptonian population. In your case, even moreso since we don't know what your physiology is like under our yellow sun versus the red Kryptonian one. Hence, it is anecdotal; it's hearsay."

"Ah. I think I see," he answered, his face conveying he hadn't understood a thing.

She sat on the bed, careful to keep distance between them. She did not want there to be an undue sense of familiarity between them. "I need to tell you what's happening," she explained. Over the next hour, she gave a very truncated history of Themiscyra, as well as what his arrival had done to the local ecology and life.

He blanched when she mentioned he'd killed. A tear leaked from his eye. "That's awful," he said.

"It is, Kal," she agreed. "But it's no different than if you were on an airplane that crashed into someone's house. Will you blame yourself for being on the plane, even though you couldn't have prevented it from going down? You were just as helpless in this situation as those on the ground."

He still looked troubled. "I don't know if I can let myself off so easily."

"I can understand what you mean," she said, "but don't let the guilt eat you up. That only leads to more problems." She frowned. "Speaking of which, there's something else I need to tell you." She told him of the upcoming Council meeting for the next morning, and the reason for it, omitting the key fact that whichever way the judgment went, she would share in it. If she had told him, and he was anything like Kal, he would have stormed downstairs and demanded that her mother excuse Diana from being a party to his punishment. He would have made an ass of himself.

"You aren't telling me everything," he said, looking her in the eyes.  
"What do you mean?"

He tapped one of his ears. "I heard you and your mother through the door," he said. "Only when the two of you were shouting," he said, afraid that she might think he had been eavesdropping.

She looked at him, surprised. He hadn't been able to hear the whole conversation? Kal had always had such an exquisite sense of hearing. Perhaps that was something that would have to come back to him, just like his memory. She looked away. "Leave it be," she said.

This woman would have killed her sisters for him. She would have ignited a civil war. At best, she might be banished from all who had loved and cared for her since the time she had been born. For him? Why?

"Why would you do something like that?" he asked, not listening to her.

"Kal is worth it," she said.

He understood now. In many ways, he was, in fact, quite childlike, but in this, he had an insight, an understanding of adult motivations and emotions, that he knew was a truth: she had loved the man he had once been. He wasn't that person now, though. He wasn't good enough.

"Who was Lois Lane?" he asked, seeing her tense at the mention of the name. Did Diana not like Lois?

So was this to be her role? His nurse and therapist, slowing bringing him back to his full health and life, only to turn him over to the love of another? Hera, just once, why couldn't he choose her? Instead, she knew, it would always be Lois.

"The love of your life," she finally said, unwilling to look at him.

He was silent, thinking about her statement. "Are you sure about that?" he eventually asked, a dissenting cant to his voice. "I know her name, but I can't remember her face. At all." How could what Diana had just said be true? The love of his life was a woman whose face and voice he couldn't even recall? After all, he remembered so much about Diana. _Her_ face and _her _name had been in his mind the moment the cycle of death and rebirth had finally ended. Even beyond that, though, he remembered her scent: a natural floral aroma of orchids. He even knew her favorite food: Pad Thai, whatever that was.

"It will pass," she said, unwilling to allow the smug satisfaction she felt to be reflected in her voice. Lois had his love, but Diana had his soul. She turned back to him, and pressed him back into the bed. "It's time you got some rest," she said, a moment later, shaking her head. Oh, that obstinate lock. She didn't want to create familiarity, but his hair; must it always fall across his face like that? She reached out, a natural reaction and brushed it back. He was about to speak again, but she put a finger to his lips, quieting him. "You're tired. Sleep Kal."

She pulled the blankets over his shoulders, covering them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Then so be it," Hippolyta said. "Banishment." She gazed at the other Council members. "If you will excuse me, I'll need to inform my know. Someone will have to let the Oracle know as well."

"Shouldn't she already know? She is an Oracle after all," someone muttered.

Hippolyta continued as though she hadn't heard the words. "Phillipus, can you handle that detail?"

"Of course, Majesty."

Hippolyta made her way to Diana's chambers. She walked in, not bothering to knock. Her daughter was no longer an Amazon, and her banishment deprived her of the honorific of welcomed guest. She was officially anathema. The queen still had trouble getting her mind around that concept. She would never have guessed that such an outcome would have come to pass by the man'sarrival on the island the day prior. Had she known, she would have had him put down, with Diana none the wiser.

She frowned sourly. That wasn't entirely true. Her daughter's perception with regards to the man was strong. She would probably have learned the truth of what had occurred, and an unsealable rift would have opened between Diana and the Amazon nation, and especially between mother and daughter.  
No. This was probably the best the queen could have hoped for after the man's spectacular entrance.

She grimaced. His name was Kal-El or Clark Kent or Superman depending on the circumstances. Perhaps there would come a time when Diana would no longer be banished, and if so, it was likely the man would continue to play a large role in her daughter's life. Hippolyta reasoned that she should probably start referring to him by name, rather than as simply 'the man'.

She barged in. Diana was seated, practicing guitar. The man was nowhere in evidence. The queen snorted. Just like a man. Lazy. He was probably still lying abed, waiting for his breakfast to be served on a platter.

Hippolyta listened to the music. Her daughter played well, but the queen's mouth pursed. The guitar was yet another unwanted influence from the Patriarch's World. The lyre had been the traditional stringed instrument of Themiscyra since the island's founding, but it was no longer one which her daughter felt comfortable playing. No. She had to choose this foreign instrument. Just as she'd chosen the foreigner, a man, over her sisters and mother.

Hippolyta shook her head. Her daughter had made her choice. Railing about it served no purpose. "You and the man, Kal, have been banished." She spoke without preamble. "You have one hour to remove yourself from Themiscyra's borders." She turned to leave.

"Thank you, mother," Diana said, coming to stand.

Hippolyta turned slightly. "Be well, daughter," she said. "I cannot acknowledge more than that. You have been struck from our rolls. You are outcast."

"I understand."

"Be gone within the hour," Hippolyta said. Her face and voice softened. "I love you, Diana. No matter what our laws say, I cannot and will not bring myself to despise you. Go forth and know that you still have your mother's love, if not her respect."

"I love you as well," Diana answered. "If the Fates are kind, perhaps one day, I will be allowed to walk Themiscyra's shores again, in peace and happiness."

"If the God wills," Hippolyta said.

"You mean Gods."

"As you say," Hippolyta answered cryptically before sweeping out.

****

Before leaving, Diana gathered a few belongings, such as a few favorite portraits, while Kal donned his famous blue armor, which hung large and awkward on his thin frame. They launched from her balcony without any further ceremony. He was unable to fly, and she had to carry him. He was an awkward burden, and he had looked terrified the entire flight, clinging with white knuckles to her. Although, his grip really hadn't been that strong, she realized after they had landed. Certainly not as strong as would be expected for someone with his expected strength.

Diana had thought long and hard about where they would go. The place where he would most likely be able to heal and regain his lost memories was the place that had been home to him the longest: the Kent farm.

However, it was to her apartment in Boston that she took him to first. She could just imagine the scene if she showed up at the Kent farm with Kal in tow. _"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kent. I brought you a surprise. Here's your son back from the dead. _She shook her head. No. The ground needed to be prepared first.

Once they arrived at her apartment, she noticed Kal looked wan and weary. He was also extremely hungry and cleaned out her fridge and polished off two rotesserie chickens that were on sale at her local grocery store. After eating, he literally collapsed in her arms, and she had to carry him to her bed, helping undress him out of his armor.

She then made the call to the Kents, explaining what had happened. To say that they had been joyous, once they got over their disbelief was an understatement.

"Should we call Lois," Mrs. Kent asked, when she was able to stop shouting with joy.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now, Mrs. Kent. He remembers her name, but he can't recall anything else about her, such as her face or anything else," she said. "I don't want him facing the stress of that kind of a meeting yet."

A few minutes more minutes on the phone, and Diana promised to bring Kal by the next day.

****

"What's all the excitement about," Lex asked, making his way into the kitchen. He reached into the fridge and pulled out the milk and drank it straight from the jug.

"Alexander Luthor!" Martha Kent yelled. "You get a glass right now."

Lex glanced at the carton of milk in his hand. "Sorry Mrs. K," he said, sounding utterly unapologetic.

"We just were speaking to Diana," Jonathon said, smiling broadly. "It's a miracle, Lex."

"What is?" Lex asked as he pulled a glass down from one of the cabinets.

"Clark."

"What about him?" Lex asked as he poured himself a tall glass of milk.

Jonathon glanced at his wife, almost unable to comprehend or believe the news Diana had just relayed to them. "He's alive!"

Lex was in the midst of taking a large swig when Mr. Kent passed on the news. He choked, coughing and hacking and finally just turning to the sink and spat out the milk. He turned to Mr. Kent. "This isn't some kind of twisted joke, is it?" he asked, his voice calm and serious.

"No, Lex. We're sure of it," Mrs. Kent said. "It was Diana herself who told us the news."

Lex grimaced. The Kents were so trusting. He had never suffered from that problem. "I don't want to rain on your parade, but we probably should prepare for the possibility that a) it isn't Diana you were speaking to, or b) it isn't Clark she's bringing."

Martha looked troubled, and the smile slipped from Jonathon's face. Eventually, he nodded his head in agreement. "He's right, hon," he said. "We don't want to get our hopes up too much."

Martha looked at Jonathon in protest. "But Jonathon, it was Diana. Why would she lie?"

"Like Lex said, what if it isn't Diana? Or what if she's being tricked herself?"

Martha shook her head. "I don't want to believe that," she said. She gave Lex a hard look. "If there's one thing you should have learned from your time here it was that you trust those you love."

"I don't love Diana, and she doesn't love me," Lex argued.

"Be that as it may, I do," Martha countered. She went to Lex and took his hand. "I'm not saying that your paranoia is never the right path to take Lex," she said. "I just want there to be hope in your life as well."

Lex glanced down, unnerved by how close he was to tears by just the simple act of having Mrs. Kent hold his hand like that. He looked up and caught an understanding, almost sympathetic look on Mr. Kent's face. Lex nodded his head in agreement, unwilling to trust himself to speak. He didn't, couldn't break down and cry in front of them.

Mrs. Kent reached up and gently patted his face. "Would you rather live in a world where the trust I have is true, or the one where it's constant worry about betrayal?"

Lex looked up. "Sometimes, in order for your world to thrive, the paranoid have to see it's safety," he said. He blinked his eyes, trying to will the tears back. "I left something outside." With that he quickly left the kitchen and trotted out to the barn, heading up to Clark's old loft.

A half-hour later, Mr. Kent climbed the stairs, his gait firm and steady. By then Lex had his emotions back under control.

"Are you ok, Lex?" Mr. Kent asked.

"Just fine, Mr. K," Lex answered. He was standing by the window, next to the telescope and looking out.

Mr. Kent walked over to him and stood on the opposite side of the telescope. "What's got you so spooked, son," Mr. Kent asked.

Lex looked over at him. In the year since he'd been working for the Kents, familiarity and friendship had eventually taken root. He'd never heard Mr. Kent call him 'son' before. It was probably just the 'son' that an older man would call a younger, but it still sounded nice.

Lex smiled. How far he had fallen. Taking pleasure that Jonathon Kent approved of him and called him son. What would his late and unlamented father, Lionel Luthor, think of that? Lex smirked. It didn't take much imagining. The old fiend would have found a way to either poison the relationship until Jonathon and Lex were enemies again or use it to further his own ends. He'd done it before, after all, with Lex and Clark.

Lex shuddered. Thank God the old tyrant was dead. Lex had even had the corpse cremated and had dispersed the ashes widely over five continents. He wanted no chance for Lionel Luthor to ever come back.

Lex turned back to Mr. Kent, who was waiting with an expectant look on his face. "Do you believe in second chances, Mr. Kent?"

Jonathon gave Lex a look of amazement. "You're here, aren't you?" he asked.

Lex frowned. "No. Not a second chance from someone who wants to give second chances, but from everyone else. People like Diana or Lois?"

Mr. Kent rubbed his chin. "I don't rightly know the answer to that question, Lex," he said. "What I do know is this: you aren't a good man. Not by a long shot." At Lex's look of surprise and hurt, Mr. Kent laughed. "But you also aren't a bad man either."

Lex thought over his words. "Thanks," he said. "I think." He wasn't very mollified. He had tried so hard to remake himself, and to have Mr. Kent dismiss what he'd become…it hurt as bad as anything his father had ever said.

"Lex, look at me, son," Mr. Kent commanded. "You have a chance to be a good man. Maybe even a great one. But first you have to learn to accept how little control any one of us really have in this world." He nodded off in a general direction, outside the barn. "One of us could cross some street tomorrow and get hit by a car."

"That's a pretty old line, isn't it?" Lex asked with a slight smirk.

"That doesn't mean it isn't true," Mr. Kent said. He reached up and lifted his ball cap off his head, scratched his hair and sighing. "You're missing the point, though, Lex. What I'm trying to tell you is that you have to live for today and take the joy where you find it because this life is hard."

"Because of people like me?" Lex said, his voice a whisper.

"No. Because of people you once were like," Jonathon said, looking over at Lex. "Not anymore, son. You aren't all the way there, but I can see you trying. And I can see you making it."

"Thanks Mr. Kent," Lex said, his eyes tearing up.

Mr. Kent noticed. "Now that's the second time you've gotten weepy-eyed today. What's really troubling you?"

Lex debated whether to tell him the truth. In the end, he decided he'd spoken enough lies in his life and told Mr. Kent his real fears. "It's Clark. I want to believe he's back so badly," he said, shaking his head. "I'm afraid, though. It terrifies me that I might be disappointed."

Mr. Kent sighed. "That's the rub of it, isn't it. Do you put your heart at risk or not?" He gave Lex a knowing look. "Would you wish you'd never known Clark and never loved him just to escape the pain you felt when he died?"

Lex shook his head.

"Then it's ok to hope that he is alive. And it's ok to grieve if the worst comes to pass."

"I'd like him to be alive. At least then I'll know then that someone in this world still loves a devil like me."

"Even if this all turns out to be a cruel hoax, you're still loved. And you stopped being a devil a long time ago."

Lex turned to Mr. Kent. "If I'm not a devil, then what am I?"

"A man in need of redemption. Just like the rest of us," Mr. Kent said. He turned to leave. "Supper's on in ten minutes."

****

Diana had found some clothes for Kal earlier that morning at a twenty-four hour Walmart. His armor was packed away and slung over her shoulder, and now he wore a red plaid shirt and blue jeans.

They had landed just outside the Kent farm – she had to carry him again – and were walking toward the house.

She glanced at Kal. He had eaten a dozen eggs, a pound of ham, three bowls of hash browns and washed it all down with a gallon of milk and orange juice. She shook her head. At that rate, he was going to eat the Kents out of house and home. She looked closer. Maybe it would be worth it, though. He already looked stronger today. Still unbelievably thin, but it seemed likely that he just needed all that food to rebuild all his lost muscle and mass.

"Do you recognize any of this," Diana asked as they approached the barn and the farmhouse. She had hoped that being in familiar surroundings might jog his memory a bit before his reunion with his parents, but so far it hadn't.

The Kents had seen them, and they along with Lex came streaming out of the house, drawing Clark into hugs, crying and laughing at the same time. To his credit, Clark, who had little idea who these people were, tolerated their joyous expressions with a smile. Lex could see a slightly panicked look in his eyes, though.

"Maybe we should give him some room," Lex suggested.

After that, Diana took her leave, but only after promising to check in on Clark as often as she could.

Clark looked at the smiling faces, wishing he could remember these people. Lex earned a harder look. He knew this man, and he wasn't sure if he should trust him.

"We'll have to have mom fatten you up, son," his father said, laughing and clapping him on the shoulder.

Clark laughed with him, although his heart wasn't in it. He already missed Diana's calming presence.

****

"Clark, could you help me get the roast pan down?" his mother called.

"Sure, mom," Clark answered as he rumbled down the stairs. He reached up and grabbed the pan in question and handed it to his mother with a smile. "Guess what," he said.

"What is it," Martha said, distracted by the roast she planned on making for supper that night.

"Dad said that I could drive the tractor today," Clark told her, almost hopping with excitement. "Isn't that great?"

Martha looked at her son's happy face. Yes it is, Clark," she answered.

"I can't wait," he shouted as he pushed open the screen door and ran outside.

It had been six months since Clark's miraculous return. Her boy had regained almost all of his lost weight, but of his memory, no further progress had been made. She should have been happy to just have him back, but the young man who had been standing in her kitchen with excitement in his face over driving a tractor wasn't the son she had raised. This young man was…simple. Sometimes seeing him like this, it made her sad.

"He's not quite the same, is he Mrs. K," Lex said, coming down the stairs as well.

Martha looked up, surprised to hear her thoughts echoed so perfectly. "No he isn't," she said. "There are flashes when I can see the boy I raised, but they're so few and far in between."

"It's not really fair to him to judge him against the man he once was," Lex said.

"No it isn't," Martha agreed. She shook her head wistfully. "I just sometimes wish…" She glanced at Lex, smiling wryly. "Look at me going on like this. I should be thankful he's even alive."

Lex looked out the window, watching Clark run around the yard, arms outstretched as though he were flying. "A large part of him never came back," Lex said. "Those first few days, I thought it would only be a matter of time until he was healed." He shrugged. "He's regressed, though."

Martha nodded. "He was more of an adult when Diana first dropped him off with us." She gestured to the yard, where Clark had discovered a butterfly and was chasing it about. "He's like a child now."

"And you're afraid he'll never grow up."

"Yes," Martha whispered. "Jonathon and I are getting old. What if he's like this for the rest of his life?" she said. "Who'll care for him after we're gone?"

"I will," Lex promised. At her surprised look, he laughed. "He's nothing like he once was, but when I look at him, I still see my brother." He nodded. "I'll make sure he's taken care of."

Martha laughed and patted Lex on the face. "That's sweet of you to say," she told him, "but you can hardly take care of yourself. You're still broke remember?"

"I've saved some money," Lex replied, his hands going in his pockets as he looked at the ground.

"I know how much we pay you," she said. "You couldn't have saved up all that much." Martha gave him a measuring look. "What are you hiding?"

Lex sighed. Damn that stupid promise he'd made to himself of always telling the Kents the truth. "I kept back some of my money when LuthorCorp was put in receivership and the assets were sold," he said, glancing at her to see if she would be angry.

"I see."

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not, Lex. I figured as much already anyway." At his look of astonishment, she laughed. "You're Lex Luthor. It would have been out of character for you to have done otherwise," she said. "Even now, when you've become a much better person than you ever were."

"Good enough that you would believe me when I say that I would care for Clark?"

"Good enough that I would actually entrust him in your care," she replied.

****

Diana entered the conference room in the Watchtower. Until now, she had not made the other members aware of Kal's existence. She frowned. Kal wasn't really back, though was he? The boy trapped in a man's body was so unlike the man she had loved. He was happy and sweet and seemed to delight in even the smallest of gestures. Such as a few weeks ago, when she had brought him a golden lasso, a mimic of the Lariat of Hestia that she still wore – she had been banished from Themiscyra, but she was still Olympus' Champion – or the time she'd lifted him to the top of the barn, letting him feel the wind as they flew.

They were bittersweet moments. The hardest was when she had finally told Lois that Kal was alive. Lois had hopped a plane immediately. Despite Diana's attempts to explain Kal's situation, Lois had been crushed by Kal's simplicity.

"He won't ever improve?" she had asked.

"Maybe with time," Diana had answered.

"How long has he been like this?"

"We left Themiscyra about a month ago."

Lois had visited a few more times, but each visit had been shorter than the last. The final time, she had burst into tears after watching Clark play hopscotch outside. She had taken the first plane back to New York the next day. That had been two months ago.

It seemed unlikely at this point that Kal would ever be the same. Keeping him secret, even from the League, but mostly from Bruce's paranoia, seemed no longer relevant. The man-child had greater strength than any human simply by virtue of his Kryptonian physique, but the rest of the legendary powers that he had once possessed were no more in evidence than his memories or his once finely-tuned mind.

Everyone else was already there. Good.

She rapped sharply on the table, bringing the meeting to order. "It's time I explain why I am no longer the Ambassador from Themiscyra," she said. "Take your seats everyone. You'll want to be sitting when I'm done." With few words, she explained the events of the past six months. Shocked silence filled the room momentarily when she told them of Kal's presence on Themiscyra.

She shouted into the sudden din. "Silence! I won't answer any questions until you let me finish." She raised a finger warningly. "Not another word, Wally, or so help me, I'll glue your mouth shut," she said.

With a click, Wally closed his mouth.

After she finished, she sat. "Now, I'll answer any questions as best as I can," she said.

The questions lasted for hours. After Bruce asked for the fiftieth time if Kal had recovered any of his memories or powers, Diana lost her patience. "Bruce, asking the same question ten different ways won't change the truth," she said, exasperated. "He's a child, almost mentally retarded, I think. He has no powers. He isn't the man you knew."

"And you're sure he's actually who you think he is? He's not a shapeshifter, or someone just pretending to be Clark?"

"It makes no sense for someone to pretend to be a simpleton Clark," J'onn noted. He turned to Bruce. "If you distrust this man, perhaps we should bring him up to the Watchtower and test him."

Bruce's eyes narrowed in consideration. "No," he said. "That may be exactly what he's hoping for. Maybe gaining access to Watchtower was his original plan all along."

Wally rolled his eyes. "No one could pull of a con like that," he said. "I mean, c'mon, from what Diana says, he's basically Forrest Gump now." He looked at Bruce in disbelief. "You think he could stay in character non-stop in front of his parents for that long without any slips? Not to mention Lex Luthor who's just as batty – no pun intended – as you are."

Bruce smiled. "Lex Luthor would love to get his crooked hands on the technology of Watchtower," he said. "Who better to help him out than a damaged Clark?" He turned to Diana. "You said it yourself. Clark's a trusting child now. He couldn't conceive of deceit and lies. He's just the kind of patsy Luthor would be able to mold to his liking."

Zatanna considered Bruce's words. "Where do you suggest he be tested then?" she asked.

Bruce smiled. "Why not at the Kent Farm?"

"Don't you think it might seem a bid odd if all these superheroes suddenly showed up in the middle of Hicksville, USA?" Canary asked.

"Smallville," Shayera corrected.

"Whatever. The point still holds."

Zatanna looked at Bruce. "Canary's right."

"Why not just a couple of League members then," Atom suggested.

"Wally and Bruce," Steel said, sounding confident.

"Why those two," Zatanna asked.

Steel was busy eating a banana. He paused in mid-bite. "Wally's been promoting some products by Wayne Industries, and the two of you have been seen in your civies together, so…"

"Yeah, like maybe they could pretend they're looking for a place to shoot a new commercial," Canary offered, getting into the spirit of the conspiracy.

"Or maybe, I could just make sure that the Kents don't mind if their son is interrogated, and if they say yes, we simply teleport down there, just a few of us, and that way no one would know that members of the League were in Smallville," Diana said.

Silence greeted her words. "Uh. I guess that might be the best plan," Canary finally said.

"Let me make the call," Diana said, sounding annoyed. Honestly, once the newbies came up with an idea, they just had to run with it, no matter if there were five simpler and less spectacular ways to do the exact same thing.

She was on the phone with the Kents for a few minutes, assuring them that the League simply wanted to talk to Clark. Eventually, they said 'yes'.

****

A week later, Diana, Bruce, J'onn, and Wally beamed down to the Kent farm. Wally was added because other than Bruce and Diana, he was the one who knew Clark the best. J'onn because he could read minds.

"Nice little slice of Americana Clark grew up in," Wally said, glancing around.

"There he is," Diana said, pointing to Kal.

He was sitting in the dirt and playing with Justice League action figures. They were battling members of the Five Hundred. "Take that Parasite," he yelled, driving a toy Batman into the figurine of the deceased villain. "Oh no you don't, Cheetah." He made a whirling noise. "You can't get away from me. I'm the Flash; the Fastest Man in the Universe, registered trademark."

"That's Clark," Wally said, sounding horrified. He looked upon the man that once had been near deified the world over, playing in the dirt, with a child's toys. This was once the man Wally had looked up to as an older brother and role model. Seeing him like this was breaking his heart. "I don't know if I can do this," he said, shaken.

"You have to, Wally," Diana said. "I promised him he could meet you. That's all he's been talking about for the past week; how he gets to meet the Flash and Batman." She glanced at Batman, who looked distinctly unwell. "Are you ok, Bruce?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he growled. "Let's get this over with."

"This was your idea, remember?" Diana said tartly.

Bruce looked at Diana. "I had no idea," he said, his eyes filled with pity.

Mr. and Mrs. Kent appeared just then, and trailing closely behind was Lex.

After making introductions, Mr. Kent spoke directly to Bruce. "I know you're probably here to test him or some such," he said. "Lex here, thinks you want to make sure that he Clark isn't some kind of, I don't know what. But he thinks you're here to make sure that this isn't one of his tricks." He looked Batman up and down. "It isn't. We've known Lex for the past eighteen months or more, and we trust him. Which is a damn sight more than I can say for you."

"Don't hurt him," Mrs. Kent said. "He's still our son, and we won't have it."

"I'm going to be there during the questioning," Lex said. "It's the only way I'll let you interview him." His tone brooked no dissent.

"Fine," Bruce growled. "J'onn?"

"They trust Lex, and they love Clark." He looked at his fellow Leaguers. "They don't trust us, though," he said. "Except for Diana." He nodded in her direction.

"Let's get this done," Wally pleaded.

Clark had finally looked up from his engrossing game and had noticed them. He was on his way over, a happy and excited grin on his face.

"Hi, beautiful best friend," he called out to Diana. He hugged her, the way a boy would, simple and direct with no worries about personal boundaries.

She looked at him. His face had filled out, and he looked just like he used to. From a distance, she wouldn't have seen a difference, but it was there in the way he carried himself, somewhat diffidently; in his eyes, which were innocent of worry or concern, and in his gestures, which were awkward, like a young boy still learning to move his limbs.

"I've brought some friends," she said, introducing the other Leaguers. Clark was suddenly shy.

After letting Clark get used to the idea of the League, they went inside.

Bruce asked a few questions, but mostly left matters to J'onn. Instead, he settled in the background and watched the reactions of others.

Diana looked amused and wistful. The Kents were hovering, worried for their son. Wally looked unhappy with the worshipful glances that Clark kept throwing his way. J'onn was inscrutable as ever. As for Luthor, he seemed protective, but not in a possessive way. It was odd, and Bruce would never have believed it, but Luthor actually seemed to care for the simpleton. Maybe even loved him.

His eyes narrowed. Could he have actually changed? Clark had always believed so since the transfusion that had saved Lex's life. It was surprising because Bruce had always thought men like Lex were unsalvageable. They were best off rotting in prison where they could never harm another soul again. Looking at Lex though, maybe that wasn't always the case.

This Clark had no powers according to Diana, but what if they eventually developed. Bruce grimaced. Superman's power in the hands of an idiot. It was unthinkable.

He uncorked the kryptonite, carefully, while no one was looking. He stared at Clark. And stared some more. Clark didn't show the slightest hint that anything was wrong with him. At this range, he should have been curled up on the floor in agony, but he just sat there, looking at the Leaguers with that ridiculous look of awe on his face. Not even a sneeze.

Bruce smiled grimly. Gotcha Luthor! "This isn't Clark," he announced, his voice deep and resonant.

Everyone's head whipped around. Clark looked confused and hurt.

"What do you mean this isn't Clark?" Mr. Kent demanded.

"Be very careful, Bruce," Lex warned.

Batman didn't flinch at Lex naming him. J'onn had already said Luthor knew their secret identities. Instead, he turned and fixed Luthor with his most menacing stare, the one that froze Gotham's criminals in their tracks. Lex simply looked back on him, a look of equanimity on his face.

"He isn't Clark," Bruce said, turning away from Luthor. He tossed the kryptonite shard so that it landed inches from Clark's hand.

Clark, seeing something shiny, reached down and picked it up, marveling at the pretty green stone. Bruce looked around, daring anyone to challenge him.

"Is that why you don't think he's Clark? Because of the kryptonite?" Wally asked before breaking out into a long series of guffaws.

Bruce frowned. Being laughed at was something he did not like at all. No indeed.

Lex looked confused and angry. "I don't understand. If that's kryptonite, why isn't he curled up on the floor in pain?" he asked.

Diana glanced at Lex. "He's immune to it," she said.

Bruce and Lex swiveled instantly to focus on Diana. "What?" they both asked simultaneously.

"That's impossible," Bruce said. "I tested him regularly."

"As did I," Lex said, glaring between Diana and Bruce, not sure who he should be angry with or even why he was angry.

"I spoke to Kal a few weeks before the battle with Doomsday," Diana said. "All he told me was that he had researched the topic of his reaction to kryptonite, and somehow made himself invulnerable to it."

Bruce frowned. "But I tested him regularly," he repeated.

Wally was still chuckling. "You mean that song and dance routine you did every month where you'd use misdirection and wave your hands around so that no one would notice when you popped the cork on your little green friend there? Not you, J'onn," Wally quickly amended, glancing at the Manhunter.

Bruce nodded. "You noticed that," he said, sounding grimmer than usual. So, Wally wasn't just a happy-go-lucky sort. He had a sharp pair of eyes. Useful to know.

"Yes," Wally answered. "I also happened to see that about six months before Clark bought it, _he_ noticed what you were doing also."

"And?"

"And he only pretended to still be affected. He'd flare his nostrils when he was supposed to, but I saw that it was less than a split second too slow."

"I reviewed the tapes to make sure that wasn't the case," Bruce said.

"It didn't matter," Wally said. "Even frame-by-frame, you wouldn't have seen it. I saw it. He was immune."

"Interesting," Bruce said. He was flummoxed. Never would he have guessed that Clark had filled that huge gap in his arsenal, or that he'd managed to keep it secret from everyone but Wally. He snorted. Wally of all people. He grinned suddenly.

"Care to enlighten us on your sudden good humor," Lex asked.

"It looks like some of what I was trying to teach Clark rubbed off on him," he said. "A teacher couldn't ask for more from a student."

A few more questions, and the League left, satisfied that Clark was as Diana had described him: soft and loving like a Labrador puppy.


	16. Chapter 16

I forgot to give credit, so here goes. All characters within, except for Daniel Turner and William Johnson and his family are solely the property of DC Comics. The songs included in Ch. 16 are _Angel Mine_ by the Cowboy Junkies and_ Ordinary World_ by Duran Duran.

**Chapter 16**

"Hi, Diana," Jonathon said. "What brings you here?"

"I promised Clark a guitar," she said, showing off the instrument in question.

"Well come on in," Jonathon said, stepping aside. "Any of your League friends stopping by?"

"I doubt it," Diana said with a laugh. It had been two weeks since Clark's interview, and members of the League were still having trouble coming to grips with his fallen state.

"Clark's in the family room watching TV," Jonathon said, looking slightly embarrassed. "He's watching _The Incredibles._"

"I'll just drop this off then and be on my way then," Diana said.

"You don't want to stay for dinner?"  
"I already ate, but thank you."

"Martha and Lex are out at the store," Jonathon said, walking Diana to the family room. "If you need anything, just holler. I'll be out in the barn."

Diana walked into the family room, and stood silently, watching Clark engrossed in watching a movie about superheroes. He wore a faint smile on his face. She couldn't fault Lois for not coming around anymore. Not truly. Lois had her own life, and once it had included Kal, but it had been the Kal who had been Superman, not this poor simple person. Despite the pain of witnessing Kal in such a state, Diana couldn't stay away though. He wasn't the man she had once admired and loved, but that didn't mean that he was unworthy of being loved.

He was such an open-hearted boy; so quick to laugh and share and love. He was a sweet. It was what she imagined he might have been like when he had been growing up. The fact that he wore Kal's face was a bitterness that she could live with. Kal lived, not as he once had been, but the essence of his goodness was still present even now. She had to say that repeatedly, trying to convince herself that it would be enough. Hadn't she asked the Gods to allow Kal to live after the battle with Doomsday, even if that meant she would never see him again?

Such rich irony.

"Kal, I've brought you something," she said, smiling and stepping into the room.

Kal quickly stood, a smile breaking on his face like the dawn. "Diana," he said, happily. He ran to her and hugged her for a brief moment, before dragging her with him. "You have to see this movie dad got. It's called _The Incredibles_, and it's about superheroes like you," he said in a rush.

"I can't stay, Kal," Diana said, laughing. "I only stopped by to bring you this guitar," she said, showing it to him.

"A guitar? Cool," Kal said, the movie momentarily forgotten. He strummed the strings, happily, making nonsense noise.

Kal had been the one to teach Diana to play guitar in the first place. To see him now, it was just another sad reminder of all he had lost. Diana fixed a smile on her face. If this was the price the Gods demanded, then so be it. She couldn't help but wish that she had been the one to pay the cost and not Kal.

"Can you play me a song," Kal asked, shoving the guitar in her hands.

Diana handled the instrument, not sure what to play. She sat on the sofa and paused the movie, while Kal sat next to her, his eyes rapt and hopeful.

She thought of how she was feeling and what she wanted to hear. A few careless strums and some exercises to warm up her fingers, and she started playing and singing. Her head tilted to the side, looking away from Kal, and her eyes closed as the first lyrics left her lips.

_She searched for those wings that she knew  
That this angel should have at his back  
And although she can't find them  
She really don't mind  
Because she knows they'll grow back  
And she reached for that halo that she knows  
That he had when he first caught her eye  
Although her hand came back empty  
She's really not worried  
'cause she knows it still shines_

_I can't promise that I'll grow those wings  
Or keep this tarnished halo shined  
But I'll never betray your trust  
Angel mine_

She sang, not knowing or feeling the tears that leaked from her eyes. Just a few, but they tracked down her face as Clark watched and listened to her play. He didn't know what made her sad, but he sensed it had something to do with him. He remembered that she had told him he had once been a hero, Superman, the greatest of them all. She was sad because he wasn't a hero anymore.

When she finished, she opened her eyes and became aware of the tears on her face. She glanced at Kal, noticing his strangely contemplative expression as he watched her.

"Are you crying because I'm not Superman anymore?" he asked.

She shook her head, unsurprised by his insight. "You've always seen so much," she answered.

He reached for her face, taking a tear off of her cheek and bringing to his lips. It was salty and wet. He tilted his head quizzically, about to ask her if his own tears would taste the same. He'd never cried that he could remember; never felt pain.

Truth came to him, a tearing agony that made his back arch in sudden pain. All his muscles tensed at once, and his mouth opened wide in a silent scream. He remembered fragments of who he had once been, but the most important answers remained hidden, shielded by the burning, soul-wrenching agony of his experience when entombed near the sun. He thrashed. He didn't want to remember that pain. It was a torture too extreme for words or memory. Best to let it slip from his mind. Let it fade like a terrible dream.

Distantly, he heard Diana shouting, asking him what was wrong.

After an eternal few minutes, his muscles slowly relaxed, and he closed his mouth, no longer needing to scream. He settled into the couch, his eyes opened, reflecting the internal horror that he was feeling as suddenly knew was expected of him.

"Kal, what is it?" Diana asked, fear and concern in her voice and face.

"I understand, Diana," he said.

She looked more closely at him. His eyes held a maturity that hadn't been present a few moments earlier. Despite his haggard appearance, he looked more assured, stronger. More like her Kal. "What happened? What do you understand."

"I need to go to the Fortress," he said. "Before I go back to being a simpleton." He shook his head. "I can't explain it, but I need to go there. Tonight."

"You aren't as you were when I started singing," she said.

"No, I'm not," he said. "But that can change if I don't get back to the Fortress."

"Why? What's at the Fortress?"

"My memories," he said.

Diana considered his words. What had happened to him? Why had he changed so quickly? She reached a quick decision. It didn't matter. If he thought something at the Fortress could help him, then so be it. She would get him there. "We need to tell your father," she said.

They stood and walked outside. Diana noted that Kal didn't walk like a little boy anymore, all gangly arms flopping around. He walked with assurance and purpose. A few minutes talking with Jonathon, and they were airborne, heading north as quickly as Diana could fly.

They reached the Fortress and Diana set down, waiting for the AI security to scan Kal and let them pass. Once inside, he directed her to take him to the control station. He inserted memory rods into the master terminal.

"Where is it?" she heard him mutter.

"What are you looking for, Kal," Diana asked.

"The key to the red sun chamber," Kal said.

"That's where your memories are?" she asked, aghast.

He glanced at her, pausing in his work. "No. It's what will keep me from tearing the world apart while my memories come back."

He continued sifting until he found what he was looking for. "Ah. Here it is," he said. He inserted the rod, and the AI came on, asking for his command. He looked at Diana again. "This is going to take a few days," he said. "I'd rather not have you see my pain."

"And when you're finished, you'll have your memories back?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "I'll remember all the people I love. You, my parents, Lois…" His face took on a distant and wistful look at the mention of her name.

Of course, Lois. Diana turned, hiding the bitter curl to her lip. As she had always suspected and feared might happen: Diana would nurse Kal, love him no matter how diminished he was, and when he was returned to the world in all his majesterial glory, it would be to Lois that he would turn.

She steeled herself against her disappointment. So be it. She turned to face him. "I'll be at my apartment," she said.

He nodded, distracted and not noticing when she left. He didn't want to do this, but it was necessary if he was to regain what he had lost and become once more the man _she_ could love.

He stepped into the chamber, settling himself into the solitary seat that was within. He waited for the AI to form manacles from the material of the seat, strapping him in so that he couldn't escape until he was done. He took a deep breath and screamed the moment the pain hit him.

****

Diana flew to Boston and landed in a deserted alley several miles from her apartment before changing into civvies. There, now she looked like a tall, somewhat dowdy schoolmarm. Although, the way Wally went on about wishing he had a teacher that looked her, she was pretty sure it didn't quite achieve what she wanted, which was to make her look ordinary.

As she excited the alley and began walking back to her apartment, she sighed. Heads swiveled as she passed; she caught a few coarse mutters and a few low, appreciative whistles. The Gods wouldn't allow her to be ordinary.

The first thing she did when she got to her apartment was to check her messages. After that she checked her email. A few more mundane details and her eyes fell on her guitar.

What had happened at the Kent farm to trigger such a reaction in Kal? Had it been the song she chose? Or had it been her tears? It had been shortly after Kal tasted her tears that he went into that convulsion. Her mind shuddered thinking about it. It had been frightening seeing him like that.

She picked up the guitar and strummed a few chords, played a few melodies. Music was always so soothing, and she had a long wait ahead of her. She listened to her heart, feeling the hope and joy that Kal might truly come back this time; not just his body but all of him. She was only minimally disappointed that Lois Lane would likely be his first stop once his memories were back. She could live with that so long as that meant he was in her life.

She found the melody and song that reflected what was in her heart. She sang.

_Came in from a rainy Thursday  
On the avenue  
Thought I heard you talking softly  
I turned on the lights, the TV  
And the radio  
Still I can't escape the ghost of you  
What has happened to it all?  
Crazy, some are saying  
Where is the life that I recognize?  
Gone away_

_But I won't cry for yesterday  
There's an ordinary world  
Somehow I have to find  
And as I try to make my way  
To the ordinary world  
I will learn to survive_

_Papers in the roadside  
Tell of suffering and greed  
Here today, forgot tomorrow  
Ooh, here besides the news  
Of holy war and holy need  
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk_

_And I don't cry for yesterday  
There's an ordinary world  
Somehow I have to find  
And as I try to make my way  
To the ordinary world  
I will learn to survive_

Hearing her emotions reflected in words and melody helped. She settled in for a long wait.

****

Within the throne room on Apokolips, Darkseid was meeting with Ares. His spawn, Kalabak, was in attendance as well.

It had been almost twenty months since Ares had come to him with his proposal. During that time, the Olympian had been helping to plan the invasion of Themiscyra alongside the best of Darkseid's generals. It should not have taken so long, except that Ares was a raving idiot.

His title, God of War, allowed the arrogant buffoon to believe that he actually had a martial bent, and a supernatural ability when it came to strategy and tactics. Both were sadly lacking, and more than once Darkseid had to listen to one of his generals make a very subtle complaint about having to work with such an blithering fool. Thus far, Ares had been unable to grasp even the basics of aerial support of ground forces, or the uses of boomtubes to allow sappers to flank the enemy's positions. The Olympian was of an old and worthless school of thought that held that two armies should face each other across a plain and simply charge one another; the winner being the one who could most successfully hack and slash the other.

Such was not how Darkseid did battle. The Lord of Apokolips had once read _The Art of War_, and wondered if Sun Tzu had been a plagiarizer, stealing his ideas from Darkseid's own conquests. There had much wisdom in that slim treatise, but the Master's own strategy could be boiled down to a few curt phrases: plan for any contingency; courage when needed; sacrifice of pawns if necessary; overwhelming force when called for; deceitat all times; and most importantly, no mercy. Those were the coda by which Darkseid had fashioned his dread empire.

So Darkseid had heard his generals out. He did not offer sympathy; such was no longer in his nature as he had long ago burned out such feeble emotions from his psyche. Still, the generals were very competent at what they did, and their concerns had to be taken into consideration.

Darkseid had seen too many psychopathic megalomaniacal rulers simply vomit forth commands, no matter how insane, and expect their underlings to carry them out. Darkseid was a megalomaniac, he understood that about himself, but he was not a psychopath. He had a distinct and very cold-blooded reason to do everything that he did. His generals knew that Darkseid would listen to their problems and suggestions, and the Master would act upon them if necessary, but the over-arching strategy; they dared not question that.

Which was why General Vileamour was twitching on the floor from the pain of the Agony Matrix. The Lord wasn't sure whether to kill the general just yet. He considered it as drool flecked from the man's lips. No. The general would still serve a final purpose.

Darkseid looked up. The War God sneered at the Vileamour, but the Master could see the unease within his eyes. Good. The months on Apokolips had not been a complete waste if Ares had learned to fear the Lord of Apokolips. The spawn. Where was he?

A disgusted curl of his lips took shape when he saw that Kalabak was cowering behind Ares. Ah yes. Those two had a twisted little plan. No doubt, something that would leave Ares in possession of Earth; Kalabak as ruler of Apokolips. And Darkseid dead.

He laughed inside.

What witless idiots. They had been noticed, skulking about in dark hallways, holding meetings characterized by frantic whispers. Desaad had seen it all, although the spymaster had been unable to get close enough to hear the actual words.

In Darkseid's mind, it was enough that they had been holding conversations in secret. Betrayal was an odor that lingered like the foulest or sweetest of aromas, depending on one's part in the matter. And right now, it was time to clear the air.

"Leave us, spawn," the Master intoned, waiting for Kalabak to shuffle away. After he was gone, Darkseid turned his gaze to Ares. "You have a choice, Olympian," the Lord of Apokolips said. "You can shackle your horse to a weak fool like Kalabak, or you can fulfill your promise to me."

"I don't know what you mean, Darkseid," he stuttered.

The Master chuckled. It was not a happy noise. His torturers often used the sound of his laugh to enhance the fear in their victims before they even touched them with scalpel or pliers. "Do you not?" Darkseid asked, a toying note to his voice. "I am absolute ruler here, which means I know all that occurs in my realm. You and Kalabak have been seen conversing in secret, in areas of the palace that are infrequently used. Is there a reason for such skullduggery?"

Ares remained silent, his eyes as large as saucers.

The Lord stood and took slow, echoing steps down his dais. "No words, War God?" he asked, mockingly. As Ares was about to speak, Darkseid held a hand. "I know of what you and Kalabak plotted," he said. "I wish to hear the truth of it from your own lips. Lie to me, and such will be your fate." He stared at Ares, his eyes glowing red, and the famed and dreaded Omega Beams shot forth.

The God of War threw his hands up, not that it would have done him any good. The Beams curved around Ares, cupping him and leaving him with less than an inch to move in any direction. They shot toward General Vileamour, encasing him in their ruddy glow. The general evaporated with a scream.

Ares trembled. Once the lightning bolt was his, he would fear no one. Not his father, not Apollo, not even Darkseid. No one. Until then, he needed to survive. If that meant serving this terrifying Master, then so be it. The worm would eventually turn. Ares opened his mouth to speak, and needed to clear his throat twice before he could get any words out. "What do you wish to know, my lord?" he asked.

Darkseid smiled. "Everything you and Kalabak planned. In your own words." He held up a cautionary finger. "I will be quizzing Kalabak as well," he said. "Whichever one of you tells the truth will live. The other will be fed to the parademons."

Ares licked his lips and spoke.

When he finished, Darkseid didn't bother asking if Ares had held anything back. It was impossible for the War God to do anything other than lie. Whatever plans the Olympian and Kalabak had decided upon were no doubt inspired entirely by Ares himself. Kalabak was too stupid to come up with anything on his own.

Darksied called for the spawn, who came ambling into the throne room, head ducked low.

"Your friend Ares has been telling me some very interesting stories about the meetings the two of you have had," the Master began. "Tell me, spawn, did you truly think I would not find out?"

Kalabak shot Ares a look of fear and hatred.

Ah yes, betrayal, that foulest and sweetest of aromas.

"Father," Kalbak began. He was swatted across the room before he could utter another word.

"No," Darkseid said. "Try again."

Kalabak wiped the blood from his split lip. "Master, I was playing the Olympian all along," Kalabak said. "I would never betray you. I was simply seeking to learn his plans."

"He said they were your plans," Darkseid said.

"He lies!" Kalabak shrieked.

"You think I frown upon it," Darkseid said, laughing. "I applaud such a vice." The Master nodded imperceptibly to Ares, who began walking slowly toward the still fallen Kalabak, circling in from behind.

"Come here spawn. It is time you learned what it means to disappoint your God."

Kalabak stood on unsteady feet, and stumbled forward, whimpers escaping his lips.

Ares prowled behind him, silently unsheathing the dagger Darkseid had given him months ago. The Master's words rang in his mind. _"Kalabak has no heart," he had said. "The only way to kill him is to decapitate him."_ Ares firmed his grip on the knife.

"Kneel," Darkseid ordered.

Kalabak instantly dropped to his knees.

Ares stood directly behind the spawn. With a quick motion, he grabbed Kalabak's head in a vice grip and sliced his neck open. He sawed until Kalabak's head came free of his body. Blood sprayed upward, splashing on Ares, coating his face and chest. None besmirched the Master.

"Now you are mine, Ares," Darkseid said, smiling. "And now I know I can trust you." He turned to leave. "We will launch the invasion in two months time. Be ready by then, or it will be you lying there in a pool of your own blood."

"Yes, my lord," Ares said, trembling.

"Send someone to clean up that mess." The Master was pleased. Two unworthy servants had proven quite useful today. It was as it should be.

****

His voice had long ago grown hoarse from all the screaming. His body twitched, a marionette to the pain. Drool seeped from his lips, and his eyes were glazed, seeing nothing and focused on his inner hell. Vomit caked his shirt, and his pants were soiled, front and back.

He looked nothing like the invincible Superman.

Kal-El of Krytpon. Clark Kent of Earth. Superman.

His names were his mantra as he survived memory.

A human can let time dull the pain of trauma as the mind and body work as one to heal under the panacea of forgetfulness. Such was not the case for a Kryptonian.

His father, Jor-El, had sent him to Earth, the last son of Krypton. There were things that Clark Kent didn't know about his Kryptonian heritage that he was coming to understand. While under the blistering torment of remembrance, a memory crystal from Jor-El was activated, and his father spoke to him within the red sun chamber.

"Do not let your physical form deceive you, my son. You are not human, and you are not as a human," he had said. "When you were conceived, your mother and I were quite satisfied that the Eugenics Committee of Scylona, the capital of Krypton, only required a five percent adjustment of your genetic composition to achieve ideal. When I realized Krypton was about to be extinguished, I adjusted your composition even further. Earth was the place I chose to be your home as it resonated within me. It reminded me of what Krypton may have once been like, in both form and culture. I changed your physical shape so that you would be appear a human, but underneath it all, you are still Kryptonian, and now you are learning what that means."

He had continued. "We can never forget, Kal-El. We do not trace our emotions solely within our minds, as humans do. We map them out in our blood and in our bone. Our whole body is able to maintain that which we are, almost as a genetic memory. So we have always been." He paused as Kal screamed particularly loudly. "When we of Krypton developed our eugenic technology, we sought to improve upon this gift, but we did not understand fully what we were accomplishing." Another pause for another scream.

Kal panted, feeling his pain subside. It was a momentary respite, he knew. So far, he had counted twenty-four cycles. There were seventeen to go, each one would be worse than the last. The agony began again. So did the screaming.

Jor-El continued. "The way in which we improved ourselves was so that it was not just emotions that could be housed in our blood, but our intellect as well. The cost was that we couldn't forget anything. We remembered all. All the pain, the joy, the suffering, the love, it was immediately available, as bright and clear as the moment it occurred." He paused, again for a loud shriek. "Never being able to forget trauma can drive any sentient being mad," he said. "And perhaps as a race we were driven mad," he mused, "because we counted the price of perfect recall acceptable and rather than reverse what we had done, we changed ourselves further so that we could simply deal with our emotions more easily. We would remember and feel all that we experienced, but we could distance ourselves from them."

The cycle seemed to go on endlessly, and Kal's continued screaming his vocal cords raw. Jor-El was silent until Kal had reached another respite.

He continued the moment there was silence in the red sun chamber. "We became a cold and emotionless race, turgid with our superiority at overcoming frail feelings. Sometimes though, the remembrances that we had were so awful, they would overwhelm our ability to dispense of them dispassionately. If that happened, and the person forcibly forgot the events that caused them trauma, we would revert to a childlike and retarded state until those recollections were unlocked. At the time of your birth, our eugenicists were still trying to determine why that happened."

The cycle was starting again, and Kal's body went rigid in anticipation.

"You will only become as you once were when you have re-lived the event that your mind has consciously or unconsciously chosen to forget."

The memories came. He was wearing his blue armor and blue kryptonite vambraces within his open-faced sarcophagus in the sun's corona Once more, he felt the sun's heat burn him; felt his skin bubble and bake; felt his lungs and his insides boil; felt his eyes explode; felt his body melt; smelled the burnt meat odor of it all.

This cycle had played itself out forty-one times. The first time, his body had been charred to near ash, but even then, there was a singular part of him, deep within that lived on and tried to re-grow his body. He would reach a certain point of reformation, and then the sun would roast him away again. And again.

The forty-one cycles were the times when he had managed to come back to the point that he had skin. Each cycle ended up being longer than the last because even though he was being burnt alive, as time passed, he was slowly healing, and it became more and more difficult to destroy his newly created body.

He had to remember all of it. Every exquisitely horrific moment of it.

Kal-El. Clark Kent. Superman.

He mentally chanted his names, like a mantra. It was the only way to stay sane.

****

Finally, it was ended, and Kal-El slumped within his chair, drained and weak. He had been in the red sun chamber for much longer than the few days he had told Diana. It had been two weeks of torment. The manacles came off of him, and he stood, creaking to his feet, almost falling over, but catching himself at the last minute. The chair sunk into the ground.

He stumbled to the door and exited the chamber, making his way to his quarters. In the bathroom, he caught sight of his appearance. A grim smile came to his lips. _If the people could see him now. _His hair hung limp and dirty, soaked with his sweat and oil. His face was sallow and drawn. Blood streaked his face in ruddy tear tracks from when his eyes must have ruptured. The vomit on his shirt was crusted and dry. He'd felt the soiled clothing, smelled it, as the feces chaffed his legs and buttocks with every movement.

Everything he was wearing would have to be burned.

With a sudden burst of energy, he disrobed. He hated being filthy, and had a desire, overwhelming in its intensity of being clean. He spent an hour in the shower and another hour in the soaking tub before he felt cleansed.

He was weary in a way he'd never been, but there was one other thing he had to do. The clothes, foul and unsalvageable, lay in a smelly and filthy pile in the middle of the bathroom floor. He had no intention of ever touching them again. A slow and continual burn from his heat vision, and they were ashes.

Good.

He swept up the remains, and after disposing of them, he shambled to his bed and collapsed on it, sleeping for two days.

When he awoke, he was ravenously hungry. The Fortress was well stocked with nutritional bars with the stuff the taste and texture of chalk, but no food. It didn't matter. In his state, Kal was willing to eat anything. He nearly cleaned out his pantry.

He slapped his forehead. He'd almost forgotten. He was supposed to call Diana when he was finished. He quickly dialed the number to her Boston apartment.

Thank God she was home. She came on the vidscreen, and his lips parted slightly, amazed as always by her beauty, even when her hair was tousled with sleep. He remembered that it had been love for him that had compelled her to murder on his behalf; he remembered what she had given up for him with her mother and sisters on Themiscyra; he remembered the care and devotion she had shown him when he had been reduced to a simpleton. It could have been so easy for her to leave him in Smallville, never to return after it became clear that the best he could ever hope to be was an eager, but not too bright child.

She hadn't though. She'd visited regularly, never letting the disappointment at what he had become find a way to be seen on her face, or in her eyes, or in her voice. She had loved him even in that fallen state.

This amazing woman had given up so much for him, and he was so unworthy of it.

"Kal?" she asked. On her lips, his name was melodious and sweet, like wind chimes and honey.

"Yes, Diana," he said, his voice throbbing with the need to tell her of his gratitude. How much he loved her. "It's me."

A dazzling smile, like sunshine breaking on a cloudy day came across her face. "Kal. Thank the Gods," she said, her eyes wet.

"They had nothing to do with it," he said, his tone gentle. "It was all you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Your tears," he said. He explained what he had learned about being a Kryptonian, and why he had reverted to such a simple state.

"What does this have to do with my tears?" she asked.

"You told me that you were shaped to know truth," he said. "I think that within your tears, that power has its essence, and after I fought Doomsday, you let a single tear fall from your eyes to my lips."

"And that was what healed you?"

He smiled. "No. But the tear helped me keep myself intact, even when my body was almost all gone. That tear helped me to remember the truth of who I was despite all the torment I was underwent in the corona. And when I tasted your tears at my parents' farm, I remembered myself, or at least enough to know what I needed to do."

Diana smiled, happy and radiant. "No matter the reason, I'm just happy you're back," she said.

His smile faded. "I'm not all the way back, Diana," he said. "I still have a long way to go. I have to be able to remember the pain without shrinking from it. Things could go right back to the way they were unless I can feel what I felt without hiding from it.

She frowned. "I see," she said, frowning. She had hoped that he had been past the worst of it, but it seemed that his healing was still in progress. So much pain he had to carry. How did he manage?

"I'm going back home to Smallville," he said. "I think I'll need a nice, quiet place and my family around me for this."

She nodded. "You need a place to meditate."

"I suppose so," he agreed. "Listen, I don't know how long it will take, but until I'm ready, I'd rather Bruce and the others not know about this," he said. "There's no reason to raise false hopes, and having them around…I just don't want to have to deal with them right now."

"And what of me?" she asked. "Am I included in that list."

He smiled. "Never," he said. "I hope you'll still visit me, like you did during those long months when I couldn't even tie my shoes."

She smiled, relieved. "You have my promise, Kal."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

He wasn't ready to go home yet. There was something else that he needed to do first. During the battle with Doomsday, he hadn't had time to really consider where that monster might have come from or what he meant. The beast had known that Kal was Kryptonian, which was significant, but even more important was that Kal had known Doomsday's name, and the the very sight of the creature had caused him fear. Why?

There was more to this story. Somewhere in the past, Doomsday must have come in contact with Krypton. The damage the monster had done must have been so severe that it was carved into every Kryptonian's genetic memory.

Kal needed to learn what he could of the beast, especially since Diana had told him that Doomsday still lived.

He paused. How long ago had that been? It seemed a lifetime given all that he had gone through since.

Themiscyra. Seven months ago.

And Diana was outcast from the island of her birth all because of him. What Diana had given up for him, stretching back to Max Lord and through her banishment…he couldn't describe or put into words the remorse and sense of humility that he felt at knowing that she thought him worthy of such sacrifices.

He smiled in fond remembrance of the last time they had been able to spend time together. It had been when he had escorted her to Themiscyra's borders. They'd played 'Tag' in the clouds. Her look of outrage when he'd lasered her in the tush had been priceless.

The smile faded. His last sight of Diana before his long sleep had been when she was lying in a heap in the streets of Utica, NY, and Doomsday had promised that he would kill her.

Right.

He needed to understand the beast.

He activated the master terminal. "I need all information on subject known as Doomsday," he told the AI.

"That information is classified," the AI replied.

Kal frowned. He'd never run into that particular roadblock before. Improper phrasing of questions; overly vague queries; even questions without answers, but never had he been denied because the information was classified.

"What will it take to declassify the information?" he asked.

"Doomsday's presence on Earth."

Kal rolled his eyes. "Scan media files on Utica, NY from approximately nineteen months ago."

"Scanning." A brief pause. "Scanning complete. Declassification complete."

There wasn't much on the monster; a single file. It looked like it was a recording from Jor-El, his father. Kal activated it.

"Project Doomsday was initiated approximately three thousand years ago," Jor-El began. "During the Cleric War, natural Kryptonians were outnumbered by their clones by a factor of fifty-to-one. The clones had pushed the naturals to the very brink, and the only city that remained unconquered was Scylona, the capital. With nothing left to lose, project Eradication was initiated. The naturals fended off the clones for three years, while he project took shape. Some information from that time was lost, but what is known is that the project manager, Bertron-Ur, used a tachyonic prison, a precursor to the Phantom Zone, to force evolve a clone of himself until the clone had become a self-regenerating killing machine. The resulting creature was of limited intellect, and what intelligence it did have became focused on a solitary objective: murder. No other emotions, such as fear, lust, love, pity, or even hate pervaded the beast's mind. It existed only to kill.

"It was unleashed on the clones, and in order to protect the naturals from the beast, Jun-Zod, the Primus General, leader of the natural military had Scylona entire placed within a tachyonic bottle until the monster had annihilated the clones. It took the beast five years to do so, and in the recordings that were retrieved, it was been given the name Doomsday. It has a self-regenerating capacity that made it nearly impossible to permanently disable, much less kill. It is postulated that decomposition to a random atomic state of no less than ninety percent of the monster's flesh is required to actually kill him."

Kal grimaced. It didn't surprise him that an ancestor of Jax-Ur had been the creator of Doomsday. And what of Jun-Zod, he had to have been a forebear of the infamous Dru-Zod. It was almost expected that the ancient Zod had also been a military leader.

Kal did not come from a particularly kind race. Kryptonians had been ruthless and cold-blooded in a way that only the greatest of Earth's tyrants had ever been. It seemed that was the case even in their ancient past when, according to Jor-El, the planet had been a sylvan yet carnal paradise. He had even come across accounts said that Darkseid had taken inspiration from Krypton's past as a means to govern his world. It was disgusting, but almost predictable given what else he'd learned about his people.

"How did it get to Earth?" Kal asked.

"After the Cleric War, the monster was captured and placed within the same tachyonic prison in which it had been created. Once I recognized Krypton's imminent destruction and had ensured the survival of our race by saving you, I released the creature from its prison and sent it on to Earth. I was quite precise in my calculations. I wanted to be sure that the beast would arrive only after you had achieved physical maturity."

Kal closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. He couldn't really get a headache, but there were times, like when he was learning about his people, that he wished that he could mutter, 'I think I'm getting a headache'. It somehow seemed gratifying to be able to make that kind of a statement when receiving bad news. Now was one of those instances.

"Why would you do that?"

"As a test," Jor-El answered. "I understood that you would have certain unbelievable talents and powers on Earth," he continued. "I simply wished to know if they would be great enough to allow you to survive Doomsday."

"And now that I have?"

I find that you are a worthy son of Krypton," Jor-El said. "By overcoming kryptonite and magic, you overcame the two great weaknesses that could have slain you. And now, you have defeated the one being in the Universe that could have ended you forever. Conquer this world if that is your desire. Serve it as her guardian. It no longer matters. Yours is a life that can now be lived in complete freedom. You are invincible. It is as I would have hoped for the last of our race. I am satisfied."

"Great," Kal muttered. His biological father had been nearly psychopathic in the various tests he'd strewn along his son's path over the years. This last one had to take the cake.

"If that is all, then be well my son."

"So be it," Kal said, rising.

He'd been away from Smallville for long enough. He still hadn't gotten completely comfortable with the memories he'd retrieved from his time within the corona of the sun. Until he was able to face them and remember them in all their intensity, he would never be truly healed. Those awful remembrances had to become a part of his being, just like all the happy moments in his life. He figured the best place that could happen would be surrounded by those who loved him and the peace of home.

He smiled bemusedly. It seemed that included Lex Luthor as well. He remembered how kind his old friend and enemy had been to him during those months when he had been a simpleton. How fiercely protective he'd been in front of the League, or even just in public when he'd taken Clark into town. When Lex was finished with his work, he'd always taken time to play with Clark, calling him his little brother. Most importantly, though, his parents trusted Lex, maybe even loved him. That alone was enough for Clark.

It was time to head back.

He'd already dressed in his Kryptonian armor, and he swiftly exited the Fortress, flying south and heading home. He smiled in anticipation of his family's happy reaction when they saw him back to normal.

As he went supersonic, he laughed. He'd missed this far too much. The shock collar formed around his waist, tightening around him. He raced low, just under the clouds, dispersing them with his speed. He wanted to go faster. He angled up, and went transonic. The chop bumped him around. He coiled and spiraled back down, free-falling. The increasing air pressure slowed him down until eventually, he was no longer supersonic.

He plunged through the Arctic ice. He flew or swam, it didn't matter what it was called, at a depth of twenty feet. He cut through the frigid water and kept an eye upon the ghostly whiteness above him.

He smiled. The ice ended, and swimming briskly was a male polar bear, a boar. Kal made for the surface. He erupted out of the water, a few feet behind the bear. He patted the boar on the head as he flew past. The bear 'whumphed' in surprise and snapped at Kal's fingers, but Kal had already moved on.

He picked up speed, and flew inches above the water, bouncing of off of it like a large stone.

He came upon steep mountains covered with snowfall. He flew through a narrow, serpentine valley with high peaks shrouding the floor in darkness. His passage triggered an avalanche, and his eyes flared red as he carved a path in the ice and snow.

Flying. Everything he could do: he'd missed it so much.

****

Clark had been home a few weeks now. His parents had finally gotten used to his presence and no longer made excuses to check in on him. They were off shopping, and he and Lex were alone, doing maintenance on the combine and tractor. The barn was quiet except for the sounds of ratchets and wrenches and screwdrivers.

"Clark, this nut won't budge. Can you give me a hand?" Lex asked.

"Sure." After Clark had loosened the nut, he stepped back and watched as Lex opened the head so he could get to the cylinders and clean them.

Clark watched in silence for a moment. "So, how long are you going to hide out here?" Clark said, breaking the quiet.

Lex glanced up at him before resuming his work. "What makes you think I'm hiding?"

Clark snorted. "Lex, you've been here for over a year and a half. We both know that being a farmer isn't your life's ambition."

Lex smiled at him. "Maybe it's safest if I stay here," he said, before turning back to the engine. "Sometimes I think the world is just too scary."

"Is this why you're still at the farm?" Clark asked. "Because you're afraid?"

Lex gave him a look of annoyance. "It's not simple fear that motivates me, Clark. I'm not afraid of failing." He rubbed vigorously at some particularly caked-on residue. "I'm afraid of success."

Clark frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lex stood up with a sigh. "Look Clark. I'm just not someone who's good with power, ok?"

"So you figure by staying here, you'll always be powerless?"

"And then I can't hurt anyone."

Clark watched Lex work. It was still hard to reconcile this humble Lex with the proud and arrogant man Clark had learned to despise. This Lex was much more likeable now, and Clark enjoyed his company. Still, even though he was like the young man Clark had grown so close to as a teenager, that younger Lex had a fire and a charisma about him that was lacking now. He was still sharp and witty and fun, but Clark missed the excitement of being around that other Lex.

He mentally shrugged. All in all, he'd take this Lex over the ruler of LuthorCorp any day.

Lex glanced up. "You disagree?"

Clark nodded. "I think you underestimate yourself," Clark said. "You've earned my father's trust and respect. That's no small thing."

"Your father is a good man, Clark," Lex said. "But he doesn't understand deceit."

Clark chuckled. "Says you about the man who raised an alien and kept him hidden his entire life."

Lex snorted in amusement. "Maybe I need to rethink how I view your father, then."

"Maybe you should get off your backside and get back to work," Clark said. "There's a lot more you could do for the world than you can as a farm hand."

Lex rubbed his hands with the rag he'd used to wipe down the cylinders. "I don't want to go back to the way I was," he said. "It terrifies me."

"I'll be with you every step of the way," Clark said.

Lex smiled. "Will you give me a transfusion now and then so I stay on the straight and narrow."

Clark smiled back. "If that's what it takes."

Lex pondered his words for a moment. "I'll think about it," he finally responded.

Clark shrugged. "Take your time," he said. "But while we're on the topic of what you can do, I wanted to ask you something I've been kicking around. What do you think about the League leasing some it's non-military technology to various companies and governments?"

Lex looked perplexed. "Why would you do that?"

"The League needs financial independence, and from what I've heard, the idea of governments paying for our services hasn't gone over too well."

Lex considered Clark's suggestion. "It could be a huge money maker," he said. "No doubt about it. But you'd need some pretty savvy business people and lawyers in place to write up the contracts, so that the League gets full compensation."

Clark grinned.

"And I'm guessing by your smile that you think I might know some of those type of people," he said.

"Exactly,"

Lex shrugged. "LuthorCorp was a multinational," he said. "He had an entire division devoted to international trade and sales." He glanced at Clark. "But I would bet Wayne Industries could supply you with similar talent."

"Probably," Clark said. "But that might put Bruce's nom de guerre at risk."

Lex nodded in agreement. "That's probably true," he said. "It was easy enough figuring out he was Batman to begin with." At Clark's look of interest, he explained. "Batman has to be well-funded, and he's to Gotham as the Eiffel Tower is to Paris. That would mean that whoever is funding him is probably also of Gotham." He shrugged. After that, it became simple deduction and detective work."

"I looked through his mask," Clark said, grinning.

Lex laughed. "Well for the rest of us mere mortals, we have to work a little harder." His laughter fell away, and he gave Clark a sidelong glance. "If you're giving the funding of the League this much thought, then I take it you'll be rejoining it soon?

Clark frowned. "I'm not ready yet."

Lex looked perplexed. "Why not?"

"I have my reasons," Clark responded. Other than Diana, he hadn't told anyone else the real reason as to why he had lost his powers, intellect, and memory. Batman's paranoia had become Clark's. "I'll be getting back to training full-time and should be ready in a month or so."

"How will you train?" Lex asked. "Nobody can really push you."

"The blue still affects me," Clark said. "It takes away my powers." A moment later, he added, "Of course, it also takes away my humanity and leaves me an emotionless robot."

"Huh? I didn't know that," Lex said. "So what disciplines are you going to be practicing?"

"Brazilian Jiujitsu, Judo, Muay Thai kickboxing, Boxing, and Greco-Roman wrestling. The MMA stuff."

Lex whistled in appreciation. "Some tough sports you chose to master," he said. "Is that why you were able to kick Grundy's ass so easily?"

Clark grinned. "Pretty much."

Lex grinned back. "Finally. You've wised up. You fixed your weakness to kryptonite and now you've learned to fight." He laughed. "You always did this thing where the other guy pounded on you, and then you'd pound on him. In the end, you always won because you're invincible, but it was still pretty stupid." He paused. "But highly entertaining." Lex smiled. "And in a month, you'll be a hero again. Good."

Clark stopped smiling. "I've thought about that a lot, you know?" he said. At Lex's look of confusion, he elaborated. "What it means to be a hero. Am I really a hero? Is it heroic to save lives, even if I'm never at personal risk?"

Lex grimaced. "I never thought so," he said. "A true hero is someone who puts everything on the line; not just their life, but their future. Dying is easy." He smiled faintly. "You know, even back when I was running LuthorCorp, and I was at my destructive worst, I always thought of myself as a hero."

Clark was surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Lex said, with mild annoyance. "I was evil Clark, but I never thought of myself that way. I thought I was making the world a better place. Ironically, I thought I was making it safer for regular folk, even though I never really gave it a second thought when we did questionable experiments on just such people." He shrugged. "With the Five Hundred running around, I thought I needed to find a way to protect all the normal people." He paused. "I know better now. The truly brave and heroic will look at the hardest, most irremedial problems, like poverty and ignorance and strife and push on and not let the enormity of the problem cause them to take the easy path, like a Mao Tse-Tung. A hero does more than rule; a hero serves."

"You've really thought about this a lot, haven't you?" Clark said, impressed.

Lex grinned crookedly. "Not much else to do on the farm."

"So, do you still think of yourself as a hero?" Clark asked with a grin.

Lex's smile fell. "No," he answered curtly.

"But you could be Lex."

Lex smiled sadly. "Someone like me can never be anything other than what I am."

"Which is?"

Lex glanced aside before looking back at Clark. "Do you remember the story of the scorpion and the frog?" he asked. "The scorpion comes to a river and asks the frog to carry him across. The frog, of course, is worried the scorpion will sting him, but the scorpion assures him that he won't sting the frog. After all, if he did they would both drown. So, eventually the frog agrees. Halfway across, the scorpion stings the frog, dooming both of them. When the frog asks why, the scorpion says, "It's in my nature."

"That sounds a lot like something Lionel Luthor would say," Clark said.

"The old man was right about a few things."

"Not about this. My father, for one, would beg to differ. And so would I."

****

"Hi Lois," he said, landing on the balcony of her penthouse apartment. This had been a meeting he'd been simultaneously dreading and anticipating.

She smiled fondly, stepping forward.

He noticed immediately how much prettier she seemed. Since she was now on TV, her employer, ABS, made sure that she had the finest stylists and make-up personnel available so that she could look her best. Before he had battled Doomsday, Lois had told him that there was even an appearance clause in her contract that dictated how much she could weigh, along with a maximum allowable percentage body fat when not pregnant. He shook his head in remembrance. Women sure did get the short end when it came to things like that.

"Hi Clark," she said. "It's good seeing you again."

"It's good seeing you, too," he said, drawing her into a brief hug. "How have you been?"

"You know me. Busy busy busy," she replied. She flushed and stepped away from him. Damn it. She needed a clear mind for this meeting, but she hadn't anticipated the deep longing that she would feel just by being around him. She fanned herself, hoping that he would think she was warm from the unseasonably mild weather. "How about you?" she asked. "You were…different the last I saw."

He smiled wryly. "You mean a simpleton."

She didn't smile back. Instead, she wore a look of repentance and woe. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you Clark."

His smile fell away on seeing her expression. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry I didn't visit you more," she began. "I'm sorry I didn't stay longer and work with you to help you get your memories back." Tears fell from her eyes. "I couldn't bear to see you like that. Watching you die was more painful than you can believe. And then when Diana called and said you were alive, it was a miracle. I mean, of all the great gifts you have, coming back from the dead has to be the greatest of them…

"I was only mostly dead," he interrupted, gently wiping the tears from her eyes.

She carefully pushed his hands away. Having him touch her felt too good. If she let him go on with that, she wouldn't have the courage to do what she knew had to be done.

"Quoting movies now?" she asked sardonically.

"Just part of my healing." He smiled wryly. "I'm still trying to get my life back together, Lois."

She stepped away from him and moved to the balcony railing and gazed out at the city. "I like it in this town, Clark. I feel like I'm making a difference, you know?," she said, apropos of nothing.

He moved, and she could feel his heat coming from directly behind her. "I understand. It's important to feel wanted," he said.

She turned. He was much closer than she had anticipated him being. He had regained all his lost weight and looked just as she'd always pictured him: handsome and powerful. She stared at him, momentarily lost in his cerulean eyes. _Why did he have to be so beautiful?_ She flushed again.

"And what about you, Clark? What do you want now?" she asked, speaking more to distract herself.

He brushed her hair. It was so soft. _She was not meant me_, he thought, a sudden and unwelcome realization. Not anymore. Maybe never. "Like I said, I'm still trying to figure that out. Coming back from the 'mostly dead' will do that to a person."

She unconsciously leaned into his hand. Touching him, having him near, had always made her feel so safe. She wanted to pull him to her, and have him hold her. Have him tell her he loved her. Tell him how much she missed him and how much she still loved him.

It wasn't to be. She had to let him go. It wasn't fair, and her heart was crumbling.

"You need to go to her, Clark. If dying taught you anything, it's that you may never have that perfect opportunity or second chance," she said.

He looked genuinely puzzled "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know you loved me, Clark. Maybe you still do," she paused to gather her courage. The next sentence would be so hard to say. "But I've moved on, and I think you need to as well," she lied. "Besides, I always knew, deep down, that I wasn't the one for you. It's always been her."

"Diana," he guessed.

She smiled sadly. So it was true. He loved the princess. "The only person you could remember and trust was her," she said. "That should tell you all that you need to know about to whom your heart belongs."

He looked away for a moment, his eyes blinking rapidly. Lois took satisfaction in knowing that leaving her would at least cause him some grief. In the end, though, he would be happiest with the Diana. He smiled sadly. "I guess this means goodbye then," he said.

"We'll see each other around Smallville," she said, forcing a brash, cocky smile on her face.

"Goodbye Lois.

"Goodbye Clark." Lois reached up and circled his neck as she'd done so many times in the past. She kissed him. It was a long, lingering sultry kiss meant to somehow press a memory of this moment onto her lips and her mind and her heart; a memory meant to last a lifetime.

He stepped away and rose slowly into the air. With a sad nod of farewell, he accelerated and was quickly gone.

Her lips were sore from where he had kissed her. The pain was worth it to have been a part of his life, however fleeting.

****

" Hiya Di," Kal said, not bothering to glance up as Diana walked into the barn.

"Hey yourself, Kal" she replied, amused that he was actually sitting on a bale of hay. He was hunched over his guitar, practicing a few chords, and his back was to her. "How did you know it was me?"

He glanced at her. She was in her Diana Prince rig: big glasses hid her eyes and her hair was up in a severe bun; she wore a loose, grey sleeveless blouse and a calf-length, billowy, blue skirt. She was supposed to look like a plain-Jane school marm.

It amused him that she thought dressing in those rather ugly clothes hid her beauty. It just made her look unfashionable.

He tapped his ears. "I heard the displaced air when you teleported in," he said. "I knew it was you because I recognized your heartbeat."

She blinked. "You can hear all that?" she asked impressed. "And you know what my heartbeat sounds like?"

He smiled. "Heartbeats are like faces: no two are exactly like. I memorized the heartbeats of everyone I love a long time ago."

"Hmm. Handy thing to be able to do," she said.

"It has its uses," he agreed. "Comment ca va?" he asked a moment later.

"Tres bien," she said, chuckling. "You're in a mood. Speaking French like that."

He shrugged. "Consider me inspired," he said.

"By what?"

"Tu est belle."

She smiled, looking almost embarrassed. "Merci, mon ami," she said.

Ah, yes. He was her best friend. Nothing more.

"And you look like a farmer," she said, taking in his dusty jeans and red plaid shirt.

"I am who I am," he replied.

"You're being ridiculous," she said, grinning. "We both know you're not just a farmer."

She came over to him, and he sidled aside, making room for her. She sat and crossed her legs demurely. He tried to concentrate on his strumming, but it was hard to do with her sitting so close.

He found the song he was looking for and began to play.

"I like that," Diana said. She smiled softly, humming and swaying to music, her calf occasionally brushing against his. She sang.

_There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,  
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.  
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,  
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."_

"_No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,  
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.  
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,  
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."_

After he played the last chords, she looked at him and lifted a questioning eyebrow. "Is there a reason you felt the need to play that song?"

Kal flushed in embarrassment. "When I was recovering my memories, the city of my birth, Scylona, played a prominent role in some of the things I needed to learn." He glanced down at his guitar. "Ever see that show, _Battlestar Galactica_?" At her head shake of negation, he continued. "It's about humans and their robotic creations, Cylons, and _All Along the Watchtower_ plays a prominent role in the show, so…" He shrugged, still not meeting her gaze.

"And you thought Cylons sounded like Scylona?" Diana's eyes sparkled. At his nod of assent, she laughed, a jeweled tone, like wind chimes.

He frowned in mock annoyance. "If you're done laughing at me," he said.

"I'm not laughing at you, Kal," she said. "I just love how your mind works. The associations that you come up with." She grinned. "They're just so uniquely you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, gruffly. He strummed his guitar some more. "Lois and I broke up," he said, not sure why he was telling her that.

She gave him a look of compassion. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I was expecting it, really," he said. "After all, I was gone for a year, and when I came back, I couldn't even remember my own name, much less hers." He shrugged. "It was bound to happen. A girl like her," he shook his head. "She's got her own life to lead, and I can't expect that she would have stayed put just for me."

Diana reached over and squeezed his hand. "You're worthy of much more than you give yourself credit for," she said.

"Thanks, Di," he said, squeezing her hand back. "You always seem to see the best in me. I only wish I hadn't always been so blind to what's important."

"What do you mean?"  
"When I was growing up, I thought I loved Lana Lang, and the truth was that I did, but not in the way I thought I did. It was an adolescent love, more like a crush, and if I hadn't been so willful about who I thought I should be with, maybe I would have noticed the beautiful, blonde-haired pixie who was always there for me."

"Chloe," Diana guessed.

"Chloe," Kal agreed. "She was my best friend when I was young."

"How does this relate to Lois?" Diana asked, looking perplexed.

"She just helped me to see things more clearly," Kal said, strumming again and finding a melody. He sang, his voice a surprisingly sweet tenor for such a large man.

_When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,  
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on  
Don't let yourself go, 'cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes_

_Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along  
When your day is night alone,  
If you feel like letting go,  
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on_

_'Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends  
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand  
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone_

"And what's that one for?" Diana asked.

"For me," Kal said softly, before looking up to meet her eyes.

She looked at him in concern. "Your memories of the sun," she guessed. "You still haven't come to terms with them."

"No, I've come to terms with them," he disagreed. "But it doesn't mean that they don't still wake me up in a cold sweat, or make me wish I could forget them."

She looked at him in pity. "I never realized what a burden your powers must be for you sometimes." She shook her head. "I can't imagine that: remembering everything as clearly as if it had just happened. Never letting time soothe your hurts."

He grimaced. "There are worse things."

She pointed at a ring hanging from a chain around his neck. "Why do you have blue kryptonite so close at hand?" she asked.

He glanced down at what she was pointing at. "The blue takes away my powers. It's the only way it's safe for me to sleep."

Diana looked at him in sympathy. "Then we need to fill your head with better memories," she said. "Why don't we go out for some food?"

He looked at her and a wry smile appeared. "Like a date?" he asked. "My, but won't that set the gossips' tongues to wagging."

"Fine, then we can call it a working dinner," she said. "There are some things I need to discuss with you anyway."

"Which is why you came here to begin with."

"Partly true," she said. "But I did want to see you."

He stood, reaching down and helping her up. Her palm was cool and dry, and it felt natural walking hand-in-hand with her out of the barn. "What kind of food were you thinking of?" He held up a finger. "And before you say Thai, can we please do something different?"

"Indian?"

"Sounds good. Let me just leave a note for my parents," he said. "They're off in Metropolis with Lex, making a few deals with some stores that carry organic." He smirked. "Apparently, there's a lot of money in that."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"You're going to shower and change, right?" she told him more than asked.

He glanced at his clothes. "Of course I am," he said. His tone made it clear that those thoughts had only now entered his mind.

"Uh huh. What you mean to say is that you were going to do those things when you got ready for bed tonight."

He grinned sheepishly. "Right. Be back in a second." He was gone in a blur, the speed of his passage billowing her hair.

"I never missed _that_," she muttered.

"Sure you did," he said, coming down the porch steps. He was clean and wearing a freshly pressed, mint green long-sleeved dress shirt and a pair of nice jeans.

_He certainly did clean up…yummy_, Diana thought. "Acceptable," she said. "So, where to?"

"Asheville," Kal said without hesitation. "There was an Indian restaurant that opened there a few years ago. Loved it."

"What were you doing in Asheville?" Diana asked.

He grinned. "Getting a little girl's kitten out of tree," he said.

She looked at him in amazement, trying to figure out if he was joking. He wasn't. She opened her mouth and laughed.

"Figured you'd think that was funny."

"I love you, Kal. Don't ever change."

His throat constricted at her words. _Who was he to consider himself worthy of her?_ "I'll try not," he said. "You ready?" At her nod, he rose into the air. Habit forced him to scan in all directions. No one was watching.

Good. Time to play. But first: rules were needed.

"You can't use the lasso," he said.

She blinked and quickly caught on. "And you can't fly faster than my fastest speed."

He feigned a puzzled look. "Just how fast is that anyway? Twenty? Thirty miles an hour?"

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Oh, how droll," she said. "No peeking with your vision."

"No punching me for making a joke."

She put on a sorrowful face. "Oh, did that hurt, sweetie. Need a bandaid?"

"Yes, I think I do," he said sourly. A moment later, he drifted away and grinned wickedly. He lasered one of the straps holding up her blouse, watching as it flopped open on that side. She was wearing a bra, so she wasn't completely exposed, but it was still a lovely view. She squawked in outrage as he took off. "Tag you're it," he shouted.

"No lasering me, especially my clothes or my butt!" she yelled after him.

No heat vision and no x-ray. She hadn't said anything about his hearing. He raced up into the clouds at a little under five hundred miles per hour, coming to a standstill in the middle of a nice, thick purple-blue cumulus. Sure enough, he'd left her behind, but she was closing the distance, darting from cloud to cloud, trying to find him.

"Kal, we're playing tag, not hide-n-go-seek," he heard her say in exasperation.

She moved past his cloud and drifted off. He was listening to her heartbeat, and he could tell that she was quartering him. She'd already figured which cloud he was in, and probably had a pretty good idea of where he was hiding. She was just trying to trick him into thinking she didn't. She would probably drift closer, almost aimlessly, and then…

Right on schedule, she accelerated straight toward him.

Grinning, Kal let himself drop straight down, diving right under her outstretched hands. She'd anticipated him, though. She had started her dash toward him so that she was coming down on him from an angle. A slight course correction, and she was in a straight line with him.

He juked, trying to twist out of her path, but he was only partially successful. She slapped him as she raced past, right on the ass, too.

"Tag! You're it," she shouted.

He noticed that she had tied together the cut edges from her burnt strap. She turned in the air and grinned at him, yawning in his face.

Oh no she didn't. Game on!

He darted after her.

They raced at three thousand feet. She was always just a little ahead of him, taunting him with her laugh. Kal hadn't started flying until he was almost twenty, whereas Diana had been flying since before she was one – and that had been two thousand years ago. She was a much more skillful flyer than he, always able to dive and twist and turn harder and faster than he could. He wouldn't catch her by trying to outmaneuver her. No. He had to outthink her.

She flew down until she was below the tree line, going into heavy forest. They'd come upon the foothills of the Smokies, and he saw his chance. She wanted him to follow her into the trees where her better maneuverability would leave him eating branches, many of which she would no doubt bend so they'd slap him in the face.

if he flew just above the treeline, though, he could catch her. The foothills were rising, and she would have to rise with it. He should be able to get ahead of her at some point since the shortest distance between two points was a straight line, not a curve.

Kal smiled. Coming up ahead, straight in her path, was a mountain with a steep ascent. She would either have to make that slow climb or cut left into a valley. She wouldn't go right because that was just open space. Diana liked camouflage.

He flew a little higher, and drifted a little to her left. Already, he was ahead of her, and if she did go right, he would probably still be in a good position to make a course correction and catch her. If, instead, she went into the valley as he expected, she was definitely his.

She went left, and he was there, waiting for her. She tried to dart around him, but he had been expecting that as well. He had several places where he could have tagged her. Since she'd already slapped him in a certain location, he decided to return the favor. He pinched her on the butt, and flew off.

"You're it, Princess," he said, grinning.

She rubbed her bottom and looked at him in shock. Why was her heart beating so fast? Uh oh. She probably didn't like it that he was quite so familiar with her. Sure enough, here it came. "Kal, I don't think I like this game anymore," she said, frowning.

He sighed. "Just when I was starting to win," he said.

"You weren't winning," she said. "I just don't think we should touch each other like that if we aren't dating."

He grinned again. "Then let not your lovely heart be troubled," he said. "We're on a date, remember?"

She smiled wanly. "Let's just fly the rest of the way there without playing any games," she suggested.

What were they doing if not playing games? He was pretending that he loved her as his best friend when he clearly just loved her. The question he had was this: was she also hiding her true feelings? Why else would she have visited him so much when he had lost his memories and become more boy than man? Was it possible that she could have romantic feelings for him?

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head and smiling wryly. She was Diana, beloved of the Gods and a Princess. He was just a run-of-the-mill Kansas farmboy from Krypton.

Still, what if? He pondered that the rest of the way to Asheville, wondering how it was that they were holding hands when they landed in a grove near the Biltmore Estate. Kal had been scanning the entire way, and no one had seen them land.

"Carry me the rest of the way?" Diana asked, eyebrows quirked.

Kal bent down and scooped her up. Her hands clasped around his neck.

She winked and grinned at him coquettishly. "Ready," she said.

He blurred as he ran with her, acutely aware of the firm press of her thighs against his waist and the softness of a breast against his chest. They arrived far too quickly.

It was early evening on a Wednesday, but even then, downtown Asheville was packed with tourists. This was a city in the mountains of western North Carolina. The place had perfect weather from May through September, with most days in the low 80's with low humidity. A long fall froze into a snowy but short, winter, which reluctantly gave way to a schizophrenic spring. It was home to a polyglot and eclectic group of hippies, new age mystics, fundamental Christians, a vibrant tribe of American Indians, and good ol' boys from the surrounding mountains. They all mingled in Asheville.

The restaurant was called _Café Hyderabad_. It was in downtown Asheville, near the city's heart, in a walking and shopping district. Buildings dating from the 1940's or earlier made up most of the downtown, and there were plenty people out and about enjoying the unseasonably warm November was a thirty minute wait for a table, so while they were waiting, Diana had Kal take her shopping for a blouse to replace the one he had torn.

There were a number of boutiques in the area, and Diana peeked through the windows of a few before deciding to venture into one.

"Maybe I'll just sit outside and read the paper," Kal offered.

Diana gave him an expectant look and lightly tapped her foot.

He sighed. "Or maybe I can help you find a blouse," he said. A passing hippie in a loud tie-dyed T-shirt grinned, having witnessed the entire exchange and made a whipping sound. Kal glared at his retreating back and was briefly tempted to set the bum's pants on fire.

"Coming, Kal?" Diana asked, sounding smug and imperious.

"Coming dear," Kal said.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he replied. "Whipped and I'm not even married to her," he muttered.

He waited patiently in a chair while she tried on a number of different blouses, modeling them for his approval. He wasn't sure why she bothered asking him. Whenever he said he liked something, she usually sniffed in disapproval, and if he disliked something, she would disagree then as well.

He sighed and put up a mild-mannered front – something that had once come very easily to him.

He snapped his fingers. He just remembered. The Bulls were supposed to be playing a preseason game right about now. Ever since his Royal Airness, Michael Jordan, had retired, the team had struggled, but this year promised to be different. Some of the younger players had matured in the fire or a playoff run last season. And now, with the addition of a veteran power forward to man the middle and teach the young guys how to win, they might be championship caliber once more.

He scanned the area, finding that the game was being shown in a bar five blocks away. Even better, it was in the direct line of sight of Diana's dressing room. He grinned. He tuned into the game, just as Diana stepped out so that he could offer his soon-to-be-disregarded opinion on whatever she was wearing.

"That looks great," he said, looking straight through her and not noticing a thing.

"Really? It doesn't make me look fat?"

"No. You look fabulous."

She smiled in satisfaction. "Good answer. I like it too," she said.

_Thank God._

"Now. I just need a skirt to go with it," she mused. With that, she went off to hunt for the item in question. A few minutes later, she returned with a handful of skirts. "You don't mind if I try these on?" she asked.

"No, take your time, Di." Crap! The Lakers had just gone on a 8-0 run, putting them up by 1.

Diana gave him a puzzled look. Kal sure was accommodating.

She stepped in and out of the skirts she had picked, coming out for his opinion with each one. Only the last one, the one she had on right at that moment had met with her approval. Kal had been sweet, though, saying that she looked wonderful in all of them.

Diana turned to go back into the dressing room. She was just thinking how fun Kal was to take shopping when she noticed that he was still staring at her. Did he not like the outfit she was wearing? She thought it was cute. The skirt went so well with the blouse. He was still staring at her. It seemed like he was looking right through her. She looked behind herself. There was nothing there. She rolled her eyes in sudden understanding. He was probably watching something, likely a sporting event, way off in the distance and hadn't been paying attention to her this entire time.

She glared at him. Even now, he was completely oblivious. Fine. Time for a little fun at his expense.

Kal was Kryptonian, which meant that he could control his emotions and passions to a degree that no human could possible emulate. And, of course, he'd only recently broken up with the love of his life. Right now, appreciating the beauty of other women probably wasn't high on his list of priorities. So. The little stunt she was about to pull probably wouldn't work, but she knew she had to give it a try. He deserved some payback for the joke he'd been playing on her. Besides which, he was the reason she was in this store to begin with. If he hadn't lasered her other blouse, which had been perfectly serviceable, then he wouldn't have had to sit here with her while she went shopping for a replacement.

She had unbound her hair and was no longer wearing the unfashionable librarian glasses. Her sandals were laced at the ankles, and the lemon yellow skirt she had chosen swirled about her thighs with every motion, gracing every one of her curves and ending a few inches short of her knees. Her blouse was a simple white sleeveless affair with spaghetti straps.

She stepped to Kal, and parked a foot on an armrest of his chair, the skirt hiking a few inches higher, a little bit north of mid-thigh. She bent over, the blouse hanging down. "Are you sure it's not too revealing?" she asked.

"No. It's perfect," he said, finally looking away from the game. The first thing that he saw was the full slopes of her breasts, visible from where the blouse hung low. He quickly looked away, and now his vision was filled with the sight of one of her perfectly shaped, long, tanned, athletic legs. He looked up, blushing furiously and seeing the amusement in her lovely blue eyes.

She smiled at his discomfort. "You like," she asked, silkily.

He tried to speak and had to clear his throat a few time. "Yes," he finally got out.

"Good," Diana almost purred. She bent lower to whisper in his ear, her thigh almost brushing against his face. "I'll go pay for this, and then we'll go eat," she said. She stood and walked away, an extra sway to her steps.

Kal watched, feeling shell-shocked. _What the hell had gotten into her? She'd never acted like that before. Did she have any idea how devastating she was?_

****

Dinner was a more sedate affair after that. Diana stopped teasing him by flaunting her beauty, and he was able to focus on their conversation.

"Tell me again why you have to sleep with that ring," Diana said. The waitress had just arrived and was cleaning off their plates, and Kal waited until she was done.

"The blue takes away my powers," he said, "but it also leaves me like my forebears: AN emotionless shell." He picked at the paper his straw had come in. "I have nightmares," he said, softly. "I doubt my parents' house would survive if I thrashed around in fear."

Diana watched him, offering him support as she squeezed his hand. "We definitely need to build up better memories then," she said.

"It could be worse," he said, affecting a chuckle.

"How?" she asked, puzzled.

"I could be dead."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "That would definitely count as worse," she said. "Speaking of things which should be dead, I need to ask you if you're ready to take on your responsibilities to the League."

He thought about it for a second. "I think so," he said. "I'm as good, maybe better, than as I was when I fought Doomsday." He quirked his head. "What's this about things that should be dead?"

Diana sighed. "Parademons have been spotted in the skies of Themiscyra," she said. "We don't have a lot of details, but their numbers are small."

Kal straightened up, surprised. "Ares," he said. "It had to be him. Only an Olympian could breach the magic of the island."

"That's what I think," Diana said, unhappily. "Only the God of War could be foolish or vain enough to think he could ally with Darkseid. We're holding an emergency meeting of the League in three days," she said. "I want you there."

"Apokolips probably knows their scouts have been spotted," Kal mused. "It's likely they're monitoring all transmissions from Watchtower."

Diana startled. "I hadn't considered that," she said.

"At this point, they probably know I'm still alive but figure I'm no longer a power," he said. "You know. Given my stupefaction and all that." Kal smiled, a predator's grin. "We need to keep my reemergence hidden."

"An ace up our sleeve," Diana said, her smile matching his.

"Exactly."

"Bruce has been rubbing off on you," she said, approvingly.

"Since men aren't allowed on Themiscyra and you can't go there either, how are we going to co-ordinate our plans with them?"

"Until recently, Donna acted as liaison. Today, though, I was informed that Hera spoke through her statue-avatar in her temple. She knows what is to come, and has rescinded my banishment as well as the stricture barring men from Themiscyra."

"We should…"

She put a finger up to his lips. "We can talk about those things at the meeting," she said. "Let's just enjoy dinner tonight as a couple."

"Are we a couple?" Kal asked, almost hopefully. His heart seemed to be trying to beat out of his chest and a hollow, fearful sensation filled his stomach. He could have set the emotions aside, but he allowed them. He wanted them.

Diana pursed her lips. "We're friends as always," she said, not wanting to take advantage of his likely vulnerability.

She had never experienced ending a romantic relationship with someone she loved, but all that she had read upon the subject indicated how painful it was. There was also a word for those who too quickly sought after love after losing that of another's: rebound. That was likely the reason for Kal's odd question.

"Good," Kal said, faking relief at her answer.

They paid their bill, and as they were leaving, many heads turned to follow their progress. They made a striking couple.

"I had a wonderful time," Kal said, smiling slightly. "Maybe this is one of those better memories you were talking about."

Diana smiled. "Well, then I'm glad," she said.

He turned to face her and his brows came together, a question on his face. "Do you want to have dinner tomorrow?" he asked. "Maybe in Boston at that Italian restaurant we like so much?"

"Love to," she said, without thinking. She didn't know why, but she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "See you then." She rose swiftly into the air. _Aphrodite help her. What had she done?_

Kal's lips tingled from the quick brush of her lips on his. _What if?_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_What was she going to wear?_ Diana flipped through her closet, trying to find the right outfit for her …was it a date? No. This was just having dinner with Kal, her best friend. Right? Then why was she so nervous, more nervous than she'd ever been on any of the true dates she'd actually been on. There was that word again: date. Was that what this was?

_Hera help her. What was she going to do? _She loved him, but did he love her? He had certainly admired her yesterday in the boutique, but that wasn't love. That had simply been carnal desire. She was wise enough to know the difference between love and lust.

No, she admitted reluctantly. The truth was likely that his heart was probably still bruised from losing Lois. Starting a new relationship, especially with Diana, the woman he only saw as his best friend, was likely the last thing on his mind.

She sighed. She could wait. She'd have to. If the Fates were kind, then perhaps what she prayed for would one day come to pass. If not…well, she'd been his best friend for a long time. It had always been enough before. She'd make it enough now.

She sighed again. Her mind could accept that truth, but could her heart and soul?

She shook her head in irritation. He would be here at any moment, and she still didn't know what to wear. She grimaced. Great. Go with something simple.

She pulled on a pair of jeans and a green pullover sweater. She looked herself over in the mirror, and frowned. The dry cleaner had shrunk her sweater, and it stretched tight across her chest. _Heracles' stones on a platter! _Her breasts looked like volleyballs.

She quickly changed into a violet pullover. There. That was better. Just in time, too. Her doorbell rang.

She opened the door, and saw a smiling Kal.

"I brought you flowers," he said, holding up a bouquet of roses.

"Thank you, Kal." She smiled wide as she accepted the flowers. "Come on in," she said as she walked to the kitchen. "Let me put these in some water, and we can get going." She looked the blossoms over. He'd given her an even dozen of various shades of pink along with a few yellows.

She'd have to read up on what the various shades meant after dinner.

"You look nice," Kal said as she approached him while he waited for her in the small foyer. "That violet looks really good on you."

"You _are_ full of compliments today," she said, smiling. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed back that troublesome lock of hair. Better.

He grinned. "Simply making a truthful observation," he said. He held out the crook of his arm. "Ready to go?" he asked.

She slipped a hand into the bend at his elbow. They'd stood close on many occasions; taken walks, holding hands or even as now, with her hand in the crook of his arm. Some of those times had been strolls along a beach or along lantern-lit streets in Vienna and Paris. They had once even taken a long, moonlit ride on a gondola in Venice. The gondolier had sung softly in Italian the entire time. It had been a song about unrequited love and longing.

It wasn't surprising that this time would be more intense than all those others. This time she knew her feelings. She wasn't simply a friend anymore. Well, she was that, but Aphrodite she wished she was something more than that to this man who walked alongside her. Touching him, feeling his pulse in the back of his elbow, slow and steady and sure; feeling the strength of the muscles in his arms…she was in love with a man who she wasn't ever sure would ever love her back.

She hadn't even noticed what he was wearing. She was so caught up in the joy of just being near him. She smiled inside. Kal was probably making a point with his selection in clothes. He was wearing a well-loved and comfortable old pair of jeans with a red, plaid shirt, hanging unbuttoned. He wore a T-shirt underneath with a Flash logo® on it. She wondered how much of a cut Wally was getting from it.

She inhaled. He always smelled clean, like a high mountain stream passing through an evergreen meadow.

She smiled. This felt good. Unconsciously, she pressed closer.

He had to work hard not to flinch from her touch. Her head rested against his shoulder as they walked. She had never had a strong sense of personal boundaries, at least when it came to him, and many times in the past, she had slipped her hand into his as they took a stroll on a beach or along the boulevards of many foreign cities. In hindsight, those places and their posture toward one another had been that of two people in love, but he'd never seen it. Besides which, at the time, his heart had also been full of Lois.

Early on in the League, only a few years after she'd come out into the Patriarch's world, he had somehow ended up being the one to take her to see the sights from around the world. He even remembered a time when they'd taken a midnight gondola ride in Venice. He smiled in remembrance. The gondolier had embarrassed both Kal and Diana by singing a song about unrequited love between two people who didn't know they were in love.

How strangely prophetic.

And now, here she was, pressed close to him as they walked, unaware of what her presence did to him. He retreated into his Kryptonian legacy, dulling his senses and emotions. He didn't like how that felt, though. It was too empty. He would rather experience the exquisite agony of her presence to the vacuum of the void.

Why was it that his feelings for her were so clear to him now? Dying. Losing his memory. Understanding how much she had given up on his behalf. The fact that she had stood with him even in his darkest hour. How could he not love her? He always had, but he'd never acknowledged it. Her tears, the taste of them after the battle with Doomsday, and again at the Kent farm; they had burned away all illusions and exposed his fear and cowardice. In times past, he had always convinced himself that the pain of pursuing her, and ultimately failing in that pursuit, wasn't worth the risk of losing her friendship.

Kal had enough of illusions and angst. He would try for the greatest treasure of all: her love. Even now, he relished every gloriously painful second of their time together; the touch of her hand on his arm; her head against his shoulder; the rub of her thigh against his; the press of her breast against his forearm – it felt like fire. He would rather have the pain of trying for her love and failing over settling for this shadowland of simple friendship.

How then to scale the walls of a woman's heart? Kal was bright. He was smart. He'd find a way. Tonight he would begin making his plans.

He smirked at the timing of it all. On the eve of a likely invasion by Apokolips, he was worried about falling in love.

****

After dinner, they took a walk, and their conversation somehow veered into a philosophical debate on the nature of justice. It wasn't what Kal had intended, but then, Diana wasn't a woman who always made small talk.

"What would justice look like for Darkseid?" Diana asked.

Kal grimaced. "There isn't punishment enough in this universe to account for all of his crimes," he said. "And there's no such thing as intergalactic law with which to charge him."

"So the choice on his punishment may come to be yours when you defeat him?"

"When? You've sure have a lot of confidence in me."

Diana smiled. "I know you, Kal. You can take him. Even before you took that year off, you could have taken him. Now," she shook her head, "the old demon has no chance." She looked him in the eyes. "You didn't answer my question. What will you do?"

Kal looked away, not liking where the conversation was going. "I've actually thought about it," he said, turning back to face her. "I may have no choice but to end him."

"Sounds final," Diana said. Her voice was neutral with no hint of disapproval.

Kal looked at her closely. "You don't disagree?" he asked.

Diana shook her head. "In all likelihood, we are about to go to war. Darkseid will give us no choice; we will have to kill in order to defend ourselves. That is the nature of war. Passive non-aggression works if the opponent is simply that: an opponent. When fighting evil, though, true evil like Darkseid." She shrugged. "If we are unwilling to kill, then we should be unwilling to fight."

Kal was troubled. He had never thought through the nature of conflict to that final place that Diana had just proposed. He concentrated, trying to organize his thoughts. "In a war, most people don't have the luxury of simply disabling the enemy. They have to kill or be killed." He looked her in the eyes. "The Amazons will have no choice but to kill." He corrected himself. "No. They do have another choice. They can surrender."

"And they won't," Diana said. "They will fight."

"Then they must be prepared to kill."

"Just as we all must be when we go into battle," Diana said.

"I've never liked playing judge, jury, and executioner," Kal said, disagreeing with her.

"Should we then incarcerate police officers who kill in the line of duty?" Diana challenged. "Are they not acting as judge, jury, and executioner?"

Kal considered her words. "I've already accepted that killing may be needed in those types of situations," Kal said. "I've got options that most people don't. It changes the morality of it for me."

"You were willing to kill Doomsday to protect me," Diana said. "I heard your words. You didn't say you it, but your intent was clear. That monster gave you no other option. Who's to say that can't happen again?"

"I am pretty skilled, Diana," he said, smirking. "And I've got a few more tools than your average bear."

"Smile if you wish, Kal, but you know I'm right. There are times when you may be forced to kill. It may not even happen intentionally. You might punch someone and cause an aneurysm in their brain to rupture. They stroke out and die. That's a distinct possibility, and if you cannot accept that, then you shouldn't be in the fight to begin with."

Kal smiled sourly. "I know that," he said. "I thought about it every time we went out on a mission."

"Then can you accept my premise?"

Her tears, they had washed away all hidden secrets, forcing him to confront the contradictions in his life. He fought for truth and justice and peace. Fought, most often through the inspiration he raised in others, but he also fought physically. People, even the villains could get hurt or killed in those kind of fights. He was always careful not to kill, but Diana was right, there could come another time when he would have to make a choice: kill or allow the innocent to be killed.

What if it had been Diana under the control of Max Lord? What if it had been Diana that Lord had been violating instead of Kal? What would he have done if the psychopath had told him the only way to free Diana would be to kill Lord?

Kal realized that he would have ended Lord without a moment's hesitation. Sorrow would have come later, but in the heat of the moment, if those were his only options, he would protect the innocent.

"There's a story of a Hindu king who fought off an invading army six times. Each time, he allowed the enemy king to leave the field of battle, along with his remaining army, unharmed. The seventh time, the Hindu king lost, and the enemy king had him tortured and killed and had the kingdom put to the torch. Was the Hindu king heroic for his compassion to the enemy, or was he utterly evil for waging a war we wasn't willing to see finished?" Diana asked.

"I get it," Kal growled. "I can end Darkseid. Don't ask me to be happy about the idea of killing others, though."

She reached out and took his hands, gazing into his eyes. "I don't mean to cause you pain, Kal," she said. "But we may be facing a war. You've been in small squirmishes before, but war is different. I need to know that you can do what must be done."

Kal nodded. "I can do it." He grimaced. "Although if Darkseid does surrender, I'm not sure what we would do with him in that circumstance."

"We'll figure that out when we get to that point." She grinned. "You've got to kick his ass first."

"And then he can pay for his sins."

"So, it's sins that he's committed?"

"Sins and crimes. In most cases, they are one and the same."

"Not always, though."

"Not always," Kal agreed. "Like illegal parking."

"True," Diana replied, smiling a moment later. "I don't think Bruce actually knows _how_ to park his various vehicles legally" she said. "If crimes like that were sins, he'd be a pretty bad man."

Kal grinned. "That would be a shame considering he's already a _Bat _man."

Diana rolled her eyes and groaned. "New rule: after dinner walks between us are no pun zones."

"How else am I supposed to make you smile," Kal replied.

"If you hadn't noticed, I wasn't laughing. I was groaning."

"Laughing. Groaning. It's all the same: you were amused." He shrugged. "That's enough for me."

She looked at him, seeing him smirk and strut, proud of himself. "So you're really going to keep inflicting those puns on me?"

He grinned back at her, no hint of remorse.

"Fine," she said. She stopped a few steps later, unlinking her hand from his arm. "Oh dear. Will you look at that, Kal?" she said. "My shoes are just so scuffed up. I had no idea they were in such sad shape." She shook her head in mock distress before looking up at him, gazing into his cerulean eyes that were suddenly filled with trepidation and uncertainty. "You don't mind taking me shopping do you?" she asked. "We had so much fun doing that yesterday." She clapped her hands, her face bright with excitement. "I can even find some new clothes to go with the shoes. You seemed to really like the skirt and blouse I bought yesterday."

Kal wore a sickly smile. "I won't make any more puns at dinner or after," he said, hoping that would be enough to end this talk of shopping.

Diana smiled, somehow smug and happy at the same time. "It seems we've reached an agreement," she said, linking her arm through his once more.

They walked on and ended up at a coffee bar.

Diana had an espresso while Kal ordered Darjeeling tea. The conversations around them ebbed and flowed like a tide. The lighting was dim, and chocolate colored walls and dark seating and tables added to the intimacy. Incongruently, a DJ was holding an open mike for karaoke. Someone was performing a truly awful rendition of _Piano Man._

Diana had pulled her seat so that it was near Kal's. He might be able to hear her whisper from across the city, but she didn't have that gift. Between the music and the other patrons, there was enough noise to make a quiet conversation difficult.

She had to lean near him. Her thigh was pressed against his, and he could feel her soft breath against his cheek whenever she spoke. Even despite the espresso she was drinking, her breath still smelled like orchids.

'What's going on between us," Kal finally asked, unable to keep up the charade of simply being her friend.

Diana pulled back. "What do mean?" she asked.

"Us." Kal gestured. "We've had dinner together the last two nights, and we've always been close and touchy-feely, but," he shook his head. "This feels more…intimate than usual."

Diana pulled away even further, a hurt expression on her face. "If you disapprove of it or it brings you discomfort, I'll stop," she said. "On Themiscyra, such is how I am with those I love."

Kal trapped her hands in his. "You love me?" he asked, looking at her.

She glanced down at the table for a moment before looking up to meet his gaze. "You are my best friend, so of course, yes," she said. "And you."

Was her 'yes' just that of friendship, or was it more? It sounded like more. Kal wanted to believe that it was more.

He shocked her by kissing her softly on the lips. "Don't say anything else. I need to tell you how I feel."

He stood and walked to the DJ. The man had a turntable and even an acoustic guitar to go along with the karaoke machine.

"What's up, bro?" the DJ said.

"Can I use the guitar?" Kal asked.

The DJ glanced at his six-string and then back at Kal. "Can you play?"

"Enough to get by," Kal said. He told the man the song he had in mind.

The DJ nodded toward Diana. "Singing it for your girl?"

Kal quirked a smile. "I'm hoping the song will convince her to be my girl."

"Amen to that bro," the DJ said, fist thumping Kal. "Go strong or go home, my daddy always used to say." He nodded toward Diana again. "Bring her the love, homey."

The DJ cued up the track while Kal checked to make sure the guitar was in tune. This earned an approving nod from the DJ, who introduced Kal as Clark Kent singing a song by Dave Matthews Band.

Kal sang in his tenor, the guitar and backing saxophone a gentle cadence of rhythm and music to highlight his voice.

_Where are you going?  
With your long face  
Pulling down  
Don't hide away  
Like an ocean  
That you can't see but you can smell  
And the sound of the waves crash down_

_I am no Superman  
I have no reasons for you  
I am no hero  
Oh, that's for sure  
But I do know one thing  
Is where you are is where I belong  
I do know where you go  
Is where I want to be_

_Where are you going?  
Where do you go?_

_Are you looking for answers  
To questions under the stars?  
Well, if along the way  
You are grown weary  
You can rest with me until  
A brighter day and you're okay_

_I am no Superman  
I have no answers for you  
I am no hero  
Oh, that's for sure  
But I do know one thing  
Is where you are is where I belong  
I do know where you go  
Is where I want to be_

Kal finished and handed the guitar back to the DJ, who took it back with a nod. "Good luck, bro."

Diana was standing, waiting while Kal walked toward her. His face was a mask, but she could read his emotions anyway. He was nervous, almost afraid really, but also hopeful. She smiled as he came close, her eyes moist. She took his hand and led him outside. "Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked. "You just ended the relationship with the woman you always said was the love of your life."

He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. "Lois was never that. I know that now," he said, his voice husky. "What about you? Am I who you want?"

She kissed him softly and then with greater passion, until his arms were around her, and he was holding her tight against him. Her hands linked behind his neck, and she pulled him deeper into her embrace and her kiss, unafraid that she would hurt him. She came up for air and stared into his eyes, stroking his hair. Her beloved Kal. He was so beautiful. She wanted to cry. Had the Fates truly been kind enough to allow them to live as one?

"The answer is yes," she said. "It has always been yes."

He smiled and rested his head against her forehead. "I love you, Diana," he said, whispering into her hair. "I love you in all the ways a man can love a woman." He kissed her again, tasting the coffee on her lips; inhaling the delicate aroma of orchids from her breath; feeling the softness of her tongue against his.

She pushed him back after a moment, and he moved to kiss her again. She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Not here. Not in a city," she said.

"Where then?"

"Our island."

He smiled. "See you tomorrow night," he said.

She looked startled. "Why not just go there now?"

He held her hands and looked into her eyes. "I want us to both be sure of what we're doing," he said. "Can you sleep on it?"

"Are you sure not tonight?" she asked, almost plaintively.

He smiled, holding onto his Kryptonian rationality and tamping down his surging love and desire as best he could. "Tomorrow night. 7 o'clock. Island time," he said.

She inhaled deeply and masked her disappointment. "I'll bring the ingredients for dinner if you do the cooking."

He smiled. "Deal."

"See you then," she said before kissing kissed him again, brief and soft. She turned and quickly walked away.

****

The next day, Diana had morning monitor duty on the Watchtower alongside Bruce. She prayed for the day to pass without any emergencies. It was a selfish prayer. After all, she wasn't praying so that people wouldn't be caught in a disaster, but so that she wouldn't be forced to save them. She'd given so much of herself and her time already. She wanted, demanded this night.

The day went by in slow motion. Everything seemed to happen at a snail's pace.

Bruce gave her a considering look when she stood to pace the monitor station for the third time that morning. "Anything on your mind?" he asked.

Diana glanced at him. "No," she said. "I've just got some extra energy today."

"Nothing at all that's bothering you?"

"No," Diana said. She had no desire to let Bruce poke his nose into her personal life, especially as it related to Kal. She could just imagine the intense interest he would have in her relationship with Kal, trying to find every angle and reason why she and Kal shouldn't be together.

Ok. That was being uncharitable, but still, this was the Batman, and looking for the worst in a situation was what made him tick. A rather boring way of approaching the world really. She shook her head. What had she seen in him anyway?

It no longer mattered.

She glanced at the clock. Four more hours for Wally and J'onn to take over. She sighed, and opened the gaming section on the computer. She played Sudoku.

Bruce glanced at her askance. Something was going on here. Diana was always serious and focused when on duty. She was also generally quite calm and not one to get…antsy. He thought about that. Antsy. That's exactly what she seemed. She had something else on her mind; that much was obvious despite her words.

What could have the Princess in such a state of excitement? Not just excitement, though. She was filled with anticipation perhaps?

If she wasn't going to be forthcoming with the reason why, he'd have to look into where she had been spending time the past few days. Where you lived your life could tell a lot about a person. He had a brief sense of guilt at intruding on her privacy like that. He also wondered as to why he wouldn't have been similarly curious about any of the other League members and their personal lives.

Why would he be so focused on Diana? Was it because she was such a close and longtime friend that he felt he deserved to know what she was up to. He snorted in disbelief. When had he ever told her all the things that he had going on in his life, even when they were dating?

He sighed. Perhaps he should just leave her to live her life. If there was something dangerous about what she was doing, he'd have to trust that she would let the League know before it became too serious.

The shift ended. J'onn was already present, and Diana waited impatiently for Wally to show up.

"If you want to get going, I can wait for Wally," Bruce offered.

She flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bruce," she said. Without a second glance or thought, she went to the teleporter and had herself shifted down to her apartment in Boston.

J'onn shared a glance with Bruce. "She certainly seems excited," J'onn observed.

Bruce frowned. "I noticed."

"What do you suppose it is?"

"Have no idea, but it must be pretty important given that she's usually the one to stick behind during shift change."

"Interesting," J'onn said.

****

Once she was home, Diana showered quickly. She shuffled through her clothes again. What in Hades' name should she wear? Men were so lucky. They just tossed on a shirt and pants, and they were done. Women had to match the blouse to the pants and also to the makeup and shoes. It was so stressing. At least she never had to worry about the makeup part. The Gods had blessed her with naturally pink cheeks; kohl-dark eyelashes; and rose-tinted lips.

Wait. The other night. Kal had enjoyed seeing her legs in that skirt. She had something else like that, didn't she? While the Champion armor exposed plenty of her flesh, there was no way she was going to wear that– it would be too much a reminder of work, and work was the last thing she wanted Kal thinking about.

She settled on an outfit consisting of a floral pink skirt that extended to a few inches below her knees. It also had a long slit up the side that reached a little north of mid-thigh. Her blouse was a creamy-yellow color and scooped down almost low enough not to be decent.

She looked herself over in the floor length mirror. There. Just enough flesh was showing to keep him hunting for more.

She frowned. Of course, if he wanted, he could simply look right through her clothes. He wouldn't do that would he? She shook her head. No matter. She'd have to trust on his good intentions. She smiled suddenly. Or his bad ones. Either would do.

She glanced at the clock. It was four-thirty. _Hades and fornication! _She'd have to hustle if she wanted to be on time. She quickly tied her hair back in a ponytail, grabbed the groceries, and flew out.

****

Kal flew in a few minutes early, and had a chance to look the island over. The healing continued as some of the blackened scars contained bright green shoots of new growth. The biggest change, though, was manmade. Near the freshwater pool was a small house, built along the open air style common to ancient Greece, and probably Themiscyra. Diana must have built it, or had it built.

It was constructed around an east-facing rectangular courtyard that opened out onto a view of the pool. The flooring looked to be of tan-to-orange pavers of various sizes. Wrapped around the courtyard, the actual structure of the house was a 'U' shape with red-roof tiles.

Kal landed. He hoped Diana was already there.

The day had gone by in deadly slow and dull fashion. He'd even gone to Las Vegas, putting in four hours of training in full-contact MMA fighting, but it still hadn't made the day pass any quicker. Strangely enough, the hardest part had been getting dressed. What did he look good in? He'd settled on a pair of informal black slacks and an aqua blue dress shirt that he'd splurged on by having it hand-tailored. A bright yellow tie completed the ensemble. He thought the colors all matched. His mom had even said so.

Diana came out with a smile, and he had trouble not focusing straight on her cleavage. The blouse she was wearing dipped a little lower than was legal in some states. Her skirt was long, hiding her legs, but with every step, a long flash of thigh suddenly came visible.

Diana looked him over as she walked toward him. He looked elegant and bright in his clothes. He was the same powerful and gentle man that she had known and loved all these years. The truth was, as far as Diana was concerned, he could be wearing a beggar's raiment, and he would still be her glorious and handsome Kal.

He greeted her with a bouquet of red, yellow, and lavender roses.

Diana smiled wider. "Thank you, Kal," she said. "The yellow is for friendship; the lavender is for enchantment…"

"And the red is for love," Kal said, stepping close and kissing her.

She lifted the roses so they wouldn't get crushed between their bodies. She sighed, breaking off the kiss. "Mmm. I needed that," she said.

He smelled the clean scent of orchids in her freshly washed hair, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, Diana" he said.

She smiled. "Say it again."

"I love you, Diana," he repeated as he stepped back. "While you hunt up a vase for the roses, point me to the kitchen so I can get dinner started."

"Let me give you a tour first," Diana offered. She smiled shyly at him. "It was always meant to be _our_ home since this is _our_ island," she said. "Although I always thought we'd spend time here separately and not together."

She showed him around. In the back of the house could be found the kitchen and dining room. One side held the master bedroom and bath along with a small study, while the other side held a second bedroom and the living room. Kal was happy to see a large TV in place. There was an unfinished upstairs loft above the kitchen and dining room.

Kal made dinner: pecan crusted mahi mahi on a bed of wild rice along with grilled pineapples and mangos on skewers.

"Do you want to take a walk," Kal asked, after they'd cleaned the dishes.

"Sure," Diana replied, taking his hand.

They strolled down the beach, hand-in-hand. The full moon shone brightly, casting sparkles on the waves, lighting them as they crashed against the sand. The solitary mountain loomed close at hand, seeming taller for being so near.

"Hera, this place brings my heart peace," Diana sighed, pressing closer to Kal, holding his arm.

He looked at her in curiosity. "You mentioned there was a man named Reverend Johnson in Utica who helped you out after Doomsday," Kal said. "Do you still keep in touch with him?"

"Yes," she said. "He's a gentle man, and given all that he's lost, I don't know how he wakes up every morning." She smiled sadly and shook her head in disbelief. "He's so generous with his time and his love," she continued. "It's humbling, but it's something I think I need to see: the beauty of what people are capable of. It gives me a reason to do what I do."

"I'd like to meet him," Kal said.

Diana looked up at him. "Then I'll introduce you the two of you to one another." They walked on in silence. "Why did you sing that song to me last night?" Diana asked.

Kal looked at her and kissed her. He stepped back. "Because I wanted to be able to do that," he said. "I couldn't go on living a lie; that I wasn't in love you with you."

"Let's go back home," Diana whispered. "_Our _home."

Walking would take too long. Kal rose with her in the air, embracing her and kissing her. Their lips never broke contact on the short flight back to the house.

Once inside, she lifted off her blouse and undid her bra. Next came the skirt and silken underwear. She exposed herself as she had never done before. Nudity didn't bother her. This was something else, though. This was being vulnerable. Her heart pounded her nervousness and desire. She wasn't sure which emotion predominated. What if she couldn't please him? What if he didn't find her desirable?

He was naked as well and obviously aroused, and his weight settled against her in the bed. Her chest rose as they kissed, and his hands cupped her breasts as her hips moved against his. Her legs parted, and she stroked the back his calves and thighs with the heel of her feet as he pressed closer and moaned her name. She let her instincts guide her in what she wanted and what she wanted to give.

Her fears proved baseless, and hours later, they fell asleep, holding one another.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

The Lord of Apokolips dominated the throne hall as always. For once, he was seated at a conference table on the supplicants floor, his dais and throne rising at his back. To his side, a subdued Ares sat, shifting uncomfortably whenever the Master's gaze fell upon him. Darkseid smiled inside. Kalabak's murder had served its purpose. Until then, the rumor of the Master's ruthlessness had been simply hearsay as far as the War God knew. Now, Ares was certain without any doubt as to just how cold and relentless Darkseid truly was.

The murder of the Kalabak had chastened the Olympian and let him know that if the Lord could allow such cruelty to befall his own spawn, what hope was there for Ares. That hadn't been Darkseid's original intention. He had hoped to win Ares' trust, but the God of War, while foolish and stupid, was cunning enough to know that the Master could never be trusted. Fear, then, would have to suffice. Darkseid was pleased. Fear had actually proven to be quite the strong motivator.

The rest of the generals of the High Staff of the Army of Apokolips were gathered round the conference table. They were here to go over the final disposition of forces for the attack on Themiscyra. Of course, Darkseid would not be bringing the entire army with him to the Amazonian island. That would be been foolish. There is such a thing over-whelming force and then there is the squandering of resources.

It came as no surprise that the idiot that sat at his side and posed as a God of War had proposed exactly that: invasion with the entire Army of fifteen million. Darkseid snorted in derision.

Fifteen million to conquer an island of woman of no more than seven thousand. Ridiculous. Beyond the sheer absurdity of it all, maintaining adequate supply lines for that many soldiers via boomtube would have strained the resources of Apokolips beyond the breaking point. Idiocy, but that word had surely been created in order to describe the majestically dull intellect that belonged to Ares.

No. Use of the entire Army would only come about when Darkseid knew that he could invade and level New Genesis. That flaccid planet of philosophers might pretend to be pacifists, but they still played enough at war on their bloated and ripe world to cause Darkseid considerable pause. The one billion of High Father's lush and wealthy world were easily able supply personnel enough so that there Army, in numbers, exceeded that of Apokolips.

Darkseid's own planet was destitute in comparison, impoverished really, in both resources and inhabitants. It was a world that could only support about fifteen million people – not coincidentally, the exact same number as that of the Army of Apokolips. At Darkseid's command, everyone served in the Army, including the lowliest of handmaidens and servants. It was necessary. All must have a purpose on his world in order to defend her; otherwise, they were parasites consuming resources.

Apokolips was a world designed for war. It had to be in order to consummate her Master's corrosive will to power, but also – and here, Darkseid would admit it to himself but no one else – because of fear of New Genesis and High Father, Darkseid's great enemy. If the Master ever took the Army of Apokolips in its entirety off world, there would be no doubt that High Father and Darkseid's spawn, Orion, would leap at such an opening. Seeing Apokolips bereft of defense, New Genesis would have invaded and crushed the Lord's planet to dust, the remnants to be scattered about into a thin asteroid belt.

While it would have set Darkseid's fortunes back, that would not have been the end of the long war between Darkseid and New Genesis, however. The Master had ambitions that were universal in scale, and he was relentless in his pursuit of them. He would never be content with dominion over a single world. He strove for a greater prize; the Anti-Life equation; the means to control all matter and energy in the universe. So, he was Lord of Apokolips, but in reality, he was Lord of an idea: the doctrine of domination and control of all things; past, present, and future.

He glanced over his shoulder. The last who had challenged his right to claim such a mantle had been a mighty foe. His head, preserved for all time in order to immortalize the look of pain and horror upon his face, was mounted upon a pike and placed directly behind the Lord's seat. A strange being, Darkseid mused. Powerful. Grey-skinned, blue-lipped and red eyed. Had his name truly been of similar pronunciation to Apokolips itself?

It no longer mattered. The being now served as a grim reminder of Darkseid's power. As if such were needed.

Darkseid turned to General Thistle, the commander of the fifteen legions that would be committed to this battle. Fifteen legions – 150,000 parademons. They should suffice. They better or it would be General Thistle's head on a pike. "You have secured your captains and lieutenants." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, Master." Thistle's rasped, a reminder of his time in the Pit when he'd screamed out his voice under the kind ministrations of Granny Goodness. His shrill shrieks of pain had been understandable given that part of the general's torture had included having lava poured down his throat while, simultaneously, Kalabak enthusiastically sodomized him. Darkseid chuckled. Goodness was inventive. Once Thistle had been of New Genesis, a young commander in their Army, but now he was Darkseid's, body and soul. Reborn as a parademon, he had proven his worth in many battles, displaying a ruthlessness and competence that had impressed the Master and allowed the once-pacifist to rise high in a world given over to war.

"Where are they?" Ares asked. "What if the League attacks Apokolips?" His voice held the tone of a petulant and fearful child.

Darkseid repressed the urge to slap the fool. He noticed several of his generals shift in their seat, a look of contempt directed toward the War God. He understood their sentiments. Drawing on patience he didn't know he had, he held his temper and turned to the Olympian. "The League has added new members, but they are still much weaker than they were when the Kryptonian patrolled their flanks." Darkseid nodded in assurance. "They do not have the resources to mount a sabotaging campaign against the Army's staff," the Master said. "They will be forced to Themiscyra, to defend the island, and there, we will end them."

His generals nodded all around. They understood the score. The Master was an unparalleled strategist, but more importantly he was the Lord of Apokolips. No one disagreed with him.

Thistle frowned. "The War God has a point," he said. Gasps came all around, along with looks of delight at a rival's certain death.

Darkseid leaned back. So far, the General had not crossed into defiance. He simply had raised a potential avenue of discussion. The Lord fed the general rope. If it proved necessary, he could always use that same rope to hang him. "Explain," the Master rumbled.

Thistle licked his lips, understanding that he was finally at the position he had worked toward for the twenty years he had served Darkseid. He was balanced precariously on a plank hanging out over the Pit. A single shove from his unforgiving Lord would place him back in tender mercies of Granny Goodness. He had to be delicate; utterly truthful – the Master sensed deceit as easily as others might the foulest of stenches – and yet, he had to keep back the most vital truth, all to accomplish what he had once thought only a dream.

"My Lord, Ares' information upon the outlay of the Olympians themselves is outdated," he said. "He has been here for the past nineteen months. We can no longer be assured that Zeus will stand idle. His presence could tip the balance and allow the League to send infiltrators to Apokolips to destroy the command of the Army."

Darkseid was disappointed. Thistle spoke from irrational fear. Zeus hadn't made his presence known in over two millennia, possibly banished by the birth of one who had claimed greater divinity. No matter. In this universe, Darkseid had learned that the purity of one's divinity was equal to the power of one's mailed fists. As for Zeus, he was a spent force. He would not meddle in the fight, and neither would any of the Olympians. Their time of boldness had long since passed as they withered away in an orgy of gluttony, licentiousness, and laziness; such was the nature of events when humans were given the powers of their betters.

Darkseid shook his head. The League would have only its own talents to succor itself. It wouldn't be enough.

"You are relieved of command," the Master said. Sweat broke on Thistle's forehead. Now came judgment. "Instead, _Lieutenant_," Darkseid said, instantly demoting the once-general, "You will personally be in charge of the battalion of parademons meant to keep the Army's command staff safe and intact." He pointed a menacing finger. "Should a single commander so much as break a toenail, Lieutenant Thistle, the Pit will be your destiny."

Thistle's face tightened in fear, but inside he exulted. A battalion, a full thousand parademons was his to do with as he wished. And the Lord would be offworld. So much havoc could be accomplished in such a situation. "By your command, Master," Thistle responded. He stood and then knelt, face pressed to the floor."

"General Fallow, you are now in command of this mission. You have worked closely with Lieutenant Thistle, so I expect you to be aware of the disposition of our forces."

"Yes, my Lord," Fallow spoke. "Themiscyra is a tear-dropped shaped island lying on an east-west axis, with the capital in the east, at the more narrow end. I propose that the first, fifth, and twelfth legions, which are the most experienced of our forces, boomtube to the far side of the island from the capital, at the north end and establish a beachhead. The second and eleventh will expand the beachhead, while the sixth and seventh legions provide aerial support as well as a quick reaction force. In the south, the third, eighth, and thirteenth will boomtube to establish another base of operations with the fourth and ninth acting as their aerial support. The fourteenth and tenth will expand that base. The two forces will move toward the capital and crush it between their pincers."

"The fifteenth is to be the reserves," Darkseid said.

"Yes, Master."

Darkseid had already been involved in the development of the plans. It did not require much in the way of subtlety or misdirection. This would be a gross mismatch of force strength, and in such a situation, the best plan was one that was simple and direct. It would be brutally effective. "Acceptable," Darkseid said, nodding acknowledgment.

"Communications will be the only issue," Fallow said. The lieutenants will need the boomtubes to remain open in order to control the parademons. Additionally, the magic of the island will make electronic communications all but impossible. We will have to rely on messengers."

Darkseid smiled. "The boomtubes will stay open, won't they Lieutenant Thistle?" he said, glancing at the newly demoted general. "That is also part of your operational imperative."

"Yes, my Lord," Thistle said, a sickly look of fear on his face.

"As for communications," Darkseid, said, turning back to Fallow. "Carve a messenger battalion from the four aerial units. Have them report directly to you."

"I am to come with you to Earth?" Fallow asked, surprised.

"You will serve at my side."

Fallow swallowed hard. "A great honor, Master," he said.

"The Amazons are no easy prey," Ares said. "I had a hand in their creation."

Darkseid turned to him. "You mean to say that you convinced Heracles to attack under parley and rape them until a hatred for all men burned in their hearts."

Ares flushed. "He wasn't supposed to have gone that far," he said, defensively.

Darkseid laughed. "You mistake me, Ares," he said. "I was paying you a compliment."

Ares' jaw clenched and a look of stubbornness stole over his face. "You will have many parademons, but individually they are no match for an Amazon. Even at ten-to-one, they are no match. Add the League, and the odds are not so much in our favor as you think."

"They are much more in my favor than you realize Olympian," Darkseid rumbled. "They will be facing my fifteen legions, but they will also be facing you. The simple act of going against one of their Gods should substantially sap their will to fight."

"And what will you be doing," Ares dared to ask, ducking low when Darkseid's glowing gaze came his way.

"I will do what I have always done. If they will not lay low in submission, then they will be submitted." The Master smiled and his voice was cold and pitiless. "In the end, they will beg for death."

****

Bruce waited patiently while the rest of the League filed in. Coming in just then was Shayera and Hal. Ever since the announcement of their engagement, Hawkgirl had certain smug demeanor about her, and today was no exception. Bruce smiled inside. An obvious aphorism to describe her appearance would have been _'the cat that ate the canary'_. That would be a rather grotesque saying in Shayera's case given her avian background.

Next came Zatana along with Dinah. Those two were had become as thick as thieves. Zatana flashed a look at Bruce, and for no particular reason, she and Canary both started chuckling softly. Bruce grimaced inside. Schoolgirl antics had no place in the League. Rather than reprimand them, though – after all, they hadn't done anything other than laugh at him – he pretended not to notice.

Hard, metallic footsteps heralded the arrival of Steel. J'onn and Atom were already present.

Last to arrive was Diana and the Flash. Wally had monitor duty, and had been in charge of teleporting everyone up, so Bruce imagined they would be here soon. Just as the thought formulated in his mind, Wally came racing in, excited and a happy grin plastered on his face. He looked like he'd been crying.

Bruce frowned in consideration. _What was going on?_

"You won't believe it," Wally began. "I don't believe it. It's amazing. Just the best thing ever. Oh my god! It's so wonderful," he said.

"Calm down, Wally," Bruce said, his voice soothing for once instead of menacing. "What is it?"

Beside him, J'onn shot up out of his chair. He stood straight and ramrod still. "Are you sure?" he asked Wally.

Wally nodded happily.

J'onn closed his eyes, lost in the concentration of telepathy. He smiled, broad and joyous. "It is him. Thank the light, he knows himself once more."

Bruce immediately came to his feet, exchanging a glance with Shayera and Hal. There could only be one person that could have caused such a reaction in the J'onn and Wally. Clark. He saw that the Hal and Shayera, the other two original members of the League had also puzzled out the meaning of J'onn and Wally's strange reaction. A smile broke upon Batman's face.

It took the newbies aback to see Bruce look so…happy.

Batman dashed out the door and close on his heels were Shayera, Hal, and J'onn.

"What the fuck is going on," he heard Canary yell.

"It's Clark," Wally answered. "He's back."

"Holy shit!" Zatana said. Bruce heard a mad scramble of falling chairs as the rest of the League tumbled out of the conference room.

Coming around the corner, both dressed in their uniforms, were Diana and Clark. Bruce smiled broadly. A nattering voice that he studiously ignored hectored him that this might all be a trick. Fuck it. He was going to look for the good in a situation for once. It was something that Clark had tried to teach him so many times, and in this instance, he would follow his friend's advice.

After all, if Diana and J'onn and Wally – he reluctantly admitted that Wally's judgment was fairly sound given that it had been the Flash who had first noticed that Clark was immune to kryptonite – were convinced that this was Clark, then that was good enough for Bruce. At least for now.

He took in the sight of Clark, dressed as Superman. They'd disagreed so much on so many things, but that didn't mean that Bruce didn't hold Clark in high esteem, or hadn't been in awe of him. Clark was so powerful. He could have made himself a tyrant, but he always acted as a servant. That alone was worthy of Bruce's respect.

Clark looked much the same. He still had that ridiculous lock of hair flopping over his forehead; the one that all the girls had swooned over – Batman had heard enough conversations about the League as Bruce Wayne to understand how people viewed and loved Clark, and in the case of many women, lusted after him. He was as physically imposing as always, moving in his inimitable graceful manner; the hint of impossibly fast motion implied in every step he took.

By his side, strode Diana, tall and proud. She flicked a glance at Clark, as they always did, looking for one another no matter the situation. Bruce smiled inside. Batman didn't miss the responding look from Clark.

A part of him was a little jealous of their friendship since it was almost always Batman who was the odd man out in their trio, but mostly he was simply overjoyed to see the return of a beloved friend he had though forever lost. He was mildly astonished at the generosity of his own feelings. At that moment he reached Clark, and pulled him into an embrace.

"Welcome back, Kent," he said, his voice rough and gravely to hide the deep joy that he was feeling. He wouldn't cry like Wally.

"Thanks, Bruce. It's good to be back," Clark answered. "Diana tells me we've got a crisis on our hands."

Bruce stepped back, and smiled wryly. "Oh, you know. Just the usual," he said. "We've got to save the world from some unstoppable menace that can't be reasoned with."

"And of course, we're outgunned and outnumbered," Diana added.

"Sounds like par for the course then," Clark said, chuckling.

Bruce and Diana shared a smile. It was good to have Clark back.

Wally and the others arrived, and there were hugs and handshakes to go around as the original members swarmed Clark, wanting to know what had happened, and how he had regained his memory. Clark was somewhat vague on the details, but everyone was too happy to notice or care. After that, it was time for introductions with the new members. The newbies were a bit in awe of Clark. They'd read and seen and heard so much about him. It was going to take them time to get used to the fact that THE Superman was now their teammate.

After a moment, Clark raised his hands for silence. "We've got work to do," he said, ending the banter.

They filed back into the conference room. Clark was about to take a seat when Diana stopped him.

"Your place is here, Kal," she said, gesturing to the seat at the head of the table.

Kal stood still, not moving.

"It's only his if you resign your post," J'onn said in an officious tone, "and if we vote him our new leader."

"I resign," Diana said. "Effective immediately."

"I nominate Clark to be our new leader," Wally chimed.

"Second," Hal said.

"All in favor?" Diana said.

"Aye," everyone said.

"All opposed?" she asked.

The room was silent.

"Looks like we have new leader," Wally said, grinning.

J'onn sighed. "I was just trying to follow protocol."

"Consider protocol to have been followed," Bruce rasped. "Let's get to brass tacks." He looked to Diana. "You've brought him up to speed on the events thus far on Themiscyra?"

"He knows all that I know."

"Why don't we recap for everyone's sake," Kal suggested.

Diana nodded. "Approximately three weeks ago, parademons were sighted in the skies above Themiscyra. It would take the power of an Olympian to overcome our magical barriers, so it's likely an Olympian is involved. The most likely suspect is Ares. The queen has contacted the Oracle for guidance from our Gods, but they are silent on the matter. It may be that the Gods wish us to resolve this matter on our own. Regardless, it is almost certain that we are going to be faced with an invasion of Themiscyra."

"Other than sending Diana, when has Themiscyra ever done anything for the rest of the world," Canary asked, sounding waspish. "Is this really our problem?"

Wally was about to answer heatedly, but Diana quieted him with a look. The Princess gazed at Canary for a moment before speaking. "The question has merit," she said. "However, it is the mission of the League to help those in need. The Amazons are in need of our help, and we must answer. It is our duty and our calling. As for what Themiscyra has or hasn't done, that is an issue for another time."

"It just seems like we're going to be putting our lives on the line for people who don't care about the rest of us," Dinah said, stubbornly sticking to her initial point.

Diana nodded gravely. "Such is often the case with those we help. Do you suppose the hermit kingdom of North Korea or the Burmese would offer us much congratulations or thanks if it were their nations at risk?" Diana shook her head. "It is as I said: our mission requires that we act, even if we receive no thanks for it."

Canary shifted in her seat, frowning. "I just don't like being taken advantage of. That's all," she said, trying to get in the final word.

Clark smiled gently. "No one does." He turned to J'onn. "What have we learned about the forces Darkseid will bring to bear?" he asked.

"My contacts on New Genesis believe that based on movement of troops, we can expect roughly fifteen legions to take part in the assault."

"How many is fifteen legions?" Wally asked.

"Fifteen legions is roughly 150,000 parademons."

Wally blinked. "Shit. We're hosed."

"How do we know this isn't a feint?" Bruce asked.

"We don't. Not with perfect assurance," J'onn said, "but it seems the most likely scenario."

"Ares is missing from Olympus. That much we know. And the God of War wouldn't ally with Darkseid for a feint," Diana said. "He would have only gone to and stayed on Apokolips if he was assured that Themiscyra would be destroyed. He hates us that much."

"That and he wants Zeus' thunderbolt," Clark said.

"True."

J'onn glanced at his notes. "The commanding general is likely to one General Thistle, once a lieutenant in the Army of New Genesis."

"He turned traitor?" Shayera asked, incensed.

"No," J'onn replied. "He was broken in the Pit."

"Do we know anything about him?" Bruce asked.

"Information on any of the High Command of Apokolips is sketchy at best," J'onn said.

"It won't matter," Diana said, looking around. "If the numbers they're going to bring are true, then it's likely that they will simply try to bring over-whelming force to bear."

"A pincer movement," Atom said.

"That's what mother and Phillipus believe as well," Diana agreed. "They believe that they'll likely land on the north and south end of the island, along the western shore, the most sparsely populated parts of the island."

"And the easiest places to establish beachheads," Steel added.

"Do we have any idea how many legions they'll commit to air support?" Hal asked.

"If they use their typical Apokoliptian tactics, then it should be around two aerial legions for every five land-based ones."

"With one in reserve," Clark said.

"How are we going to take out 150,000 parademons?" Wally asked.

"We're not," Clark said. "The Army of Apokolips is organized by brigades, about one thousand parademons. The parademons on their own, have a very limited capability when it comes to independent action. They're basically 'point and shoot' weapons, aimed by their commanding officer. In the case of a brigade, it's a lieutenant. Higher up, ten brigades is a legion, and that is commanded by a captain. Generals command several legions, and so on until you get to Darkseid. The point is that their organization is their weakness. The parademons, without that continual guidance, would turn and attack each other as much as they would the Amazons or us. Take out the generals and the captains and the lieutenants, and the army falls apart."

"Can't Darkseid take direct command of the Army?" Shayera asked.

"He can, but only if he has time to concentrate," Diana said. She smiled in grim promise. "He and Ares will have their hands full with Kal and I."

"You can take Darkseid?" Bruce asked Clark.

"He can take him," Diana said in assurance, reaching over and squeezing Clark's hand.

The gesture did not go unnoticed. Bruce's face was a mask as he watched the interplay between Clark and Diana. Clark smiled at her, possessive and loving, and she returned the same gaze. So, that's the way the wind blew now, did it? It didn't surprise Bruce. Even when he had been dating Diana, he had a sense that a union between those two was almost inevitable. It had finally happened. Bruce wasn't sure how he felt about that. Right now, more important matters held sway.

He forced a smile on his face. "In that case, we've got a mighty big ace up our sleeves," he said. "The Army of Apokolips prefers to leave the high staff protected back on their homeworld, with communication to their parademon troops via boomtube." He turned to J'onn. "Would New Genesis allow us to use of a boomtube to Apokolips itself?"

"It is likely that they would, so long as their fingerprints are not in evidence."

Atom smiled in delight. "A small sabotaging team slips in and does away with the enemy High Command."

"Fuck yeah," Steel said, fist-thumping Atom.

Canary rolled her eyes. "That's great," she said. "But it's a god-damn planet. How the fuck are we supposed to find where the hell the staff are when everyone is likely going to be gunning to kill us."

Diana turned to Zatana. "This is where Zatana comes in. She'll follow the telepathic links from the invading legions straight to their commanders. Flash, Atom, and Steel will go with you to provide protection." She pointed to them. "Your jobs, once you locate the High Command will be to kill them."

Wally suddenly gulped. "Kill? As in murder? I'm not sure I'm kosher with that."

Diana looked at him in sympathy. "I understand how you feel," she said. "I wouldn't ask this of you if there were some other way."

"I'm in," Atom said.

"Definitely," echoed Steel. He looked at Z. "Just point the way little lady, and their asses are fucking toast."

"What about on the island itself?" Bruce said. "Have you given thought to how we should handle things down there?"

Diana shrugged. "We're going to have to co-ordinate with Phillipus, but beyond that, I was thinking we would fight in two teams. Kal and I in one and J'onn, Shayera, and Hal in the other."

"What about me," Canary said. She pointed at Bruce. "Shit. Don't tell me I'm stuck with tall, dark, and humorless."

"No," Clark said smiling. "You'll be manning Watchtower," he said. "Someone has to be able to inform the world if we fail."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "And me?" he asked, not liking that his role was not one of his own choosing.

Clark smiled. "I have a special task for you," he said. "What do you think about a road trip?"

As Clark explained what he had in mind, Bruce smiled.

****

After the meeting on Watchtower, the League travelled by Javelin, having to follow behind Diana as she opened a path for them through the magic barrier that hid Themiscyra. For the first time in history, men walked the Amazonian island. All members of the League were present except for Dinah who was stuck up on monitor duty and Batman, who had his own task to perform.

It had been a long day as the general and her staff had tried to plan for as many contingencies as possible. The meetings were finally over, and now it was time for the Army to deploy. Kal was getting ready to take his place in the roving sentry duty that had been established. A voice held him back.

"May I speak to you, Kal-El of Krypton?" Phillipus asked in a formal tone.

Kal looked back at the Amazonian general. While the queen, Hippolyta, was nominally in charge of all Themiscyran forces, the true commander was General Phillipus. Kal waited politely for Phillipus to approach.

"I would speak to you about Diana," the general said.

Kal glanced at her, hiding the sudden wariness that he felt. "What is it?" he asked.

"She cannot be allowed to fall," Phillipus said. "Her importance is greater than you realize."

Kal smiled. Diana had been the first and only child born on Themiscyra. It was likely that almost all the other Amazons considered Diana family of some sort. Kal recalled some of the stories that Diana had told him about growing up on Themiscyra. Many of them had featured General Phillipus in the role of a favorite aunt, or perhaps a maternal figure even closer.

"I won't let anything happen to her," Kal reassured her.

"I know that the two of you have strong feelings for one another," Phillipus said. "You are possibly even in love with one another." Kal didn't allow the surprise to show on his face. He had thought he and Diana had been discrete about their changed relationship, but perhaps not discrete enough. It didn't seem like now the right time to bring that out into the open, though. The general nodded. "I had as much in the raising of the Princess as the queen," Phillipus continued. "In some ways, I am as much her mother as Hippolyta, and a mother knows these things." She paused. "That is not what I wish to discuss with you, though," she said. "She has always spoken of approvingly of your tremendous powers. I believe she is somewhat in awe of them." Her lips slid into a wry smile. "However, she says that it has always been your courage and compassion and humility that have most impressed and inspired her." She gave Kal a searching look. "What are you willing to do to ensure her safety?"

Kal looked her in the eyes, understanding the nature of the general's question. What would he be willing to do to ensure to Diana's life? In many ways, this was similar to the conversation that he and Diana had several days ago. Diana had wanted Kal to understand the nature of war, and learn for himself what it meant to be moral in such a situation. Such a premise was almost an oxymoron: a morality in war. It wasn't completely so, however. Was it moral to defend your life or that of your family or nation from an aggressor? Once Kal would have said that all life is sacred and should never be taken. He was no longer so sure about that. Fighting the enemy with peaceful means was the ideal, but if the enemy was intractably evil, then what next? If the enemy viewed passive disobedience as no different than active conflict, how to respond? Accept your enslavement, or fight and kill for your freedom?

Were the actions of the Hindu king just? He had crippled the enemy but had not killed him? How could that be moral; to force the people for whom you were responsible to carry the stain of murder on their souls but not ensure that their great sacrifice wouldn't have to be repeated ever again? God's grace and mercy were inextricable bound together, but when to offer such forgiveness? When the enemy had been beaten, but had shown no hint of remorse? Or only after they'd been humbled and knew they could never again come against you or yours?

It was a question that he had been pondering for the past few days.

The Hindu king had been wrong, and Kal wouldn't repeat his mistake. He'd do what was necessary to protect Themiscyra but especially Diana.

His decision made, he forced any concerns and second-guessing to the dull reaches at the back of his mind. He could always re-visit the decision later, but for now, he wouldn't let confusion lead to hesitation. He welded his new certainty to his intellect, just as he could subsume his emotions under his Kryptonian rationality. Yet another way his mind was ordered differently than that of humans.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Kal promised.

Phillipus nodded. "See that you do."

Kal tilted his head in consideration. "In what way is Diana more important than I realize?" he asked.

Phillipus considered his question for a moment before answering. "It is of no concern," she said. "Please forget I mentioned it."

"Does Diana know of this?"

Phillipus smiled coolly. "As I said, it is of no import."

Kal let hardness and implacability slide over his features, a trick in which muscle memory perfectly pretended emotions he wasn't truly feeling. "It sounds important."

"The queen and I know of what is best for her," Phillipus replied.

"And if you fall?"

Phillipus hesitated. "I cannot speak on all of it," she said. "I can only tell you this: in this world, clay has been breathed into life on three occasions; Awdawm, Chavah, and Diana. Think upon what that means." Phillipus turned and walked away before Kal could ask any more questions.

Kal stood still after she had left. Awdawm and Chavah. Old Hebrew names for Adam and Eve. He took to the air, pondering the words of Phillipus.


	21. Chapter 21

This is a battle, and there's some mature language involved with F-bombs and other of the seven deadly words.

**Chapter 21**

Bruno Mannheim was a parademon. He hadn't always been so. Once, he had been a two-bit thug in Gotham. His penchant for violence and his nose-to-the-grindstone style of gangsterism; the kind where he'd do whatever the big bosses told him to do, whenever they wanted it done, including doing a nickel in the Tombs, the Gotham State Pen, had earned the attention of Carmine Falcone.

Young Mannheim was on his way once his parole hearing went the way Boss Falcone paid for it to go. He became Darkseid's agent on Earth, establishing InterGang. Ostensibly, the high-tech crime syndicate had been set up as a means for the Lord of Apokolips to gain a toehold on Earth.

That had never been the Master's plan. Darkseid had gone against the Justice League once before, and while not defeated, he had been humbled. He needed more information, so he allowed advanced weaponry to be shipped to InterGang for one purpose only: to better learn the strengths and weaknesses of the Justice League, especially that of Superman.

When he had collected all the information that he felt was needed, Darkseid ended the relationship between Apokolips and InterGang, leaving the crime syndicate high and dry.

Bruno had been and still was a brute. He was none too bright. He had never seen the betrayal coming until Darkseid himself told him of it just prior to Mannheim's arrest.

Bruno Mannheim was a thug, but even a thug can be brave. As the Master's boomtube had been closing, Manheim had launched himself through it, intent on catching Darkseid and…well, he wasn't really sure what he would do then, but kicking Darkseid's ass sounded good. Instead, Bruno Mannheim had landed on Apokolips, a place that could only be described as hell. Everywhere, fires could be seen, casting an eerie glow, and the stench of sulfur filled the air. A cold darkness, moldy and damp, erased all traces of hope.

After Mannheim got his bearings, he had pulled out his modified Magnum Research Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol – it was a rail-gun now. He'd taken aim at Darkseid from point blank range.

"You promised to make me a king, you troll-faced motherfucker," Mannheim had shouted as he emptied his pistol. Seven rounds, each bullet travelling at near light speed had smashed into Darkseid's face. It had been enough kinetic energy to level a building.

Darkseid had been pushed back a few steps, but had been otherwise unharmed. Normally, attacking the Master earned one a death sentence, but the Lord had been in a charitable mood. He had smiled at Mannheim. "And so you shall be a king, Bruno Mannheim. A king of fools." A flick of red consumed Darkseid's eyes and the Omega Beams shot forth, engulfing Mannheim, sending him screaming to the clutches of Granny Goodness.

In the Pit, Mannheim had been tortured in ways that he didn't even know it was possible to be tortured. He had endured and pain and humiliation that he had never imagined a human could suffer. Long before the end, he was begging for death, but was instead offered an opportunity: join the Army of Apokolips.

As a recruiting tool, it was savagely effective – join the Army or suffer unspeakable torture. Mannheim had signed up almost before the words were out of Granny Goodness' mouth.

The only catch was this: parademons were mind-wiped. They had no independent personality or any memories. They were simply living extensions of the will of their lieutenants, captains, generals, and ultimately, their Master, Darkseid. Before every battle, they were imprinted with a simple set of directives, which they followed as best they could. Those parademons that survived were felt to have an innate sense of self-preservation and more important to Darkseid, potential to become better servants.

Eventually, if a parademon survived long enough, more of their memories were restored, melding with the skills that had been grafted to their mind at the time of the mind-wipe. And, of course they retained the conditioning imperative that Darkseid ensured was implanted in all of his servants: utterly loyalty to the Master. Few had overcome the conditioning, and those who had were kept in their place by fear of the Pit. No one wanted to visit that place more than once.

Mannheim had been among those who had survived, and, as a result, had been gifted with his memories. Bruno found himself in possession of a body that was several times stronger than it had been when he was human. He could see further into infrared as well. Most different, though, was the fact that he was now a shape-shifter of sorts. He could spread wings and take to the skies, or if he was on the ground, he could encase himself in a rocky extruscence, similar to that of Darkseid's but an order of magnitude less protective.

Mannheim was now a senior parademon; the next step would be that of lieutenant. From lieutenant came captains and after that, generals. Speaking with other senior parademons and witnessing a few commanders in action, he knew that the generals were as far above Mannheim in terms of strength and speed as Mannheim was above a human. The generals had even greater shape-shifting capabilities and could, if needed, pass for human.

Mannheim's cadre readied for their assault. This time, they were infantry, covered with their armor and ready to rumble. Survive this, and after the next culling, he'd be sure to be promoted to lieutenant. Perhaps Bruno Mannheim could still become someone of consequence.

Mannheim smiled. The League was supposed to show for this battle. Maybe he'd be able to mete out some long overdue vengeance as well. The only disappointment was that orders were to kill everyone; no survivors. Mannheim wouldn't have minded breaking some of the Amazon bitches in the Pit.

****

The Stratos, the Army of Themiscyra, patrolled the southwestern reaches of their island. War was coming. Everyone knew it. It could be felt, almost seen as a hissing in the air, like some harbinger of a far of storm making its inexorable way forward.

Aristomache clenched her spear and shield while nervous sweat damped her forehead and armpits. Even though her name roughly translated into 'best in battle', she was unsure of herself given that this would be her very first battle.

She'd been taken, along with many of her family and other members of the Ashanti tribe from Africa by Portuguese slave traders almost five hundred years ago. That was all she could remember of her early history. That and being kept like pigs in the hold of the slave ship. The hot mess of too many bodies piled against one another; the stench of shit and piss and blood and vomit; and the area that defined a person's existence for the long voyage from Africa to the New World measured six feet long, two feet wide, and two feet tall.

A storm came, and she could still remember the screams of terror from the other slaves on board, shackled and bound as they were and certain that the boat was going to capsize. Eventually, the ship ran aground on Themiscyra.

The slavers had thanked their God for His divine providence when they found themselves alive. Better still, the ship could easily be repaired. How the lust must have filled their blood when they first saw Aristomache's sisters step forth from the jungle, looking like untamed goddesses, lush and beautiful and meant for a man's delight.

That lust had quickly turned to screams as the Amazons took in the situation. No man was allowed to step foot on Themiscyra, and no man did. Without a word of warning, the Amazons had killed the crew. It was only then that the Themsicyrans realized the true depravity of the situation. They found the slaves, many drowned or crushed during the long battle with the storm. Of the two hundred and twelve slaves on board when they left Africa, only eleven still lived. And of those, five soon passed from the world, leaving six; two men, four women, and one girl: Aristomache, although that had not been her name at the time. In the nearly five centuries since that event, Aristomache had forgotten her birth name. The years of her childhood in Africa were dim memories that almost seemed as though they belonged to someone else.

The other members of the Ashanti had been placed on a boat along with food and clothing and set out to sea. A magical talisman had been given to them, meant to guide them to safe harbor.

Aristomache though had been offered a different choice: stay on Themiscyra and become an Amazon or go with her fellow tribespeople. Seeing the women of Themiscyra; their confidence, their pride, their strength, but most of all their indomitable will as expressed by their queen, the choice had been easy.

On Themiscyra, young Aristomache was fed on a diet of ambrosia, rigorous martial training, and an equally rigorous education in classical Greek knowledge and philosophy. She became an Amazon, tall and strong and hard.

This was her first battle, and her greatest concern wasn't death. She worried that she would disappoint her Daskalos – her teacher. She was no longer held to be a Spoudastis, but that did not mean that she did not still think of herself as a student.

Aristomache glanced around. The Stratos was divided into ten phalanxes of infantry and four aerial, with each phalanx consisting of 500 sisters. Aristomache was assigned to the Eighth Phalanx, the Scylla, and Aristomache promised herself that she and her sisters of the Eighth would live up to famed Syclla of legend: they would rend this enemy.

Aristomache wished she could scratch her chest. It itched under the heavy chain-link mail. Heavy greaves protected forearms and thighs, while a crested helmet protected head and neck. Her ten foot spear lanced into the sky, the tip glinting in the sunlight. At her hip, hung a sword, and slung across her back was a tall, oval shield, covering her bow and inexhaustible quiver. All of the armor and weapons of the phalanxes had been fashioned by the god Hephaestus, and while not quite as indestructible as Diana's bracelets, still they could turn away just about any weapon known to God and Man.

She glanced up. Patrolling the skies were three of the Winged Phalanxes. The white steeds were armored across the chest and flanks and head, while their riders wore silver chain and mail and carried swords along with bows and quivers. All of their armor and weapons had also been made by the bull-necked blacksmith god, Hephaestus.

In the south, nine of the infantry would patrol along with three of the Winged and three members of this Justice League.

Aristomache glanced at them. Two men and a woman. They exuded power, especially the woman with her exotic battledress and her wings and her mace, crackling with energy. The men were so odd to Aristomache's eyes. She had long since become accustomed to the slender, feminine lines of her sisters. Certainly, the statues of the gods in the temples, such as those to Apollo and Zeus, were manly, but those were simply statues. Seeing the male form made flesh, living and breathing…it was bizarre. But also fascinating. They moved so differently; their expressions were so different.

Aristomache considered them for silently before shaking her head clear of such reverie. There was to be a battle. Such thoughts were for another time.

She looked to the north. There, her sister Diana fought alongside the Third Phalanx, the Medusa. Flying alongside Diana was the Fourth Winged, the Ripper. And also the one named Kal-El.

Aristomache had heard all the rumors about Diana: how she'd grown soft; how she no longer honored the gods; how she had become a man-lover. The young Amazon shook her head. She'd seen Diana train against this Kal-El. Diana was not soft. If anything, she was harder than all of them. As for whether she loved a man, all that would prove irrelevant if Themiscyra fell, as would the importance of worshipping the gods.

Aristomache grimaced inside. The gods should be here fighting alongside the Amazons, not hiding on Olympus while one of their own, Ares, betrayed the Themiscyrans and Olympians both.

Were they truly worthy of worship if they no longer had the energy to maintain relevance? What was it to be a god anyway? Certainly, from all she'd heard, this Kal-El had the power of a god. Was that all it took? Might?

"Incoming!" a male voice shouted, the one called Green Lantern.

Aristomanche snapped her head up. There. Up in the sky, a coiled opening appeared with a thunderous boom. Hundreds and then thousands of parademons came forth. Lantern had his hand out in front of him. Bolts of energy thundered forward, blasting apart parademons, flying in large ships or as harassing fighters. The other Leaguers had formed up on him as they raced into the oncoming horde, each one acting as the apex of a triangle, as they fought back-to-back-to-back. They were powerful.

Her musings ended a moment later. "Get your fornicating asses in gear!" Palatinea, her captain shouted. "Form up. On me. I'll take point. Shields up, bitches. Spears out. Get ready to rend!"

Another boom, this one near the ground. And another. More came. Shouts from her sisters as the phalanxes came together, spears bristling forward with energy and menace.

"To Hades with all of them!" Aristomache found herself shouting. "Send them to Hell!"

With a roar, the Scylla charged forward, none of them breaking stride, holding a tight formation even then, running alongside the other phalanxes. They hit the oncoming parademons like a hammer as for the first time in three millennia, the Amazons went to war.

****

Boomtubes opened all over the north, and parademons streamed out.

"Here they come," Diana said unnecessarily.

Kal glanced at her. "I can take all the ones in the air," he said. "You're better off supporting the Medusa."

"You're certain of this?" Diana asked.

Kal nodded. "I'm going full out this time. No holding back," he said. He smiled wanly. "I'm almost curious to see what I'm capable of."

"We need them fully engaged here on the island," Diana said. "If we defeat them too quickly, they'll just retreat back to Apokolips."

Kal nodded grimly. "I know. We can't have them backtrack on Wally and the others while they're off destroying their command. I don't want to have to do this again."

"The gods watch over you, Kal," Diana said, kissing him and not caring who saw.

"And the Lord watch over you as well, Diana," Kal said. He watched her fly toward the Medusa. The Third Phalanx charged to intercept the parademons trying to form up into units on the ground. They were still exiting the numerous boomtubes, but soon they should all be here.

"Interesting," Artemis, a flame-haired Amazon said, having noted the kiss between the Princess and the man. "It seems the rumors are true. The princess is a man-lover."

Kal looked at her. "I thought you were here to fight, not gossip," he said.

Artemis smiled at him. "That is what we were born to do," she said. "Stay here and hide behind Diana's skirts, little man and watch how Amazons bring battle."

Kal smiled back at her, mocking and with no hint of warmth in his eyes or face. "Just cut off their retreat," he said. "That's all I need. That and stay out of my way. Today, a Kryptonian rides with death."

Artemis smirked. "Brave words." She loosened her sword and prepared her bow. "Talk is cheap." She turned to her command, the Fourth Winged Phalanx, the Ripper. "Form up. On me!" she shouted. "We ride for our queen. We ride for our home. We ride to do battle. We ride because we are Amazons!" With a kick to flanks of her stead, she and the Ripper were off. One last shout: "Fly sisters, and rip them apart!"

Kal floated, watching them wing away. He shook his head. Even at their best pace, they wouldn't reach the oncoming parademon horde for five minutes, just a few minutes before Diana and the Medusa slammed into the parademon infantry. So be it. He'd wait. He wanted to see those boomtubes empty. He glanced to the south, seeing the battle already starting to take shape there. The southern boomtubes were open, but no further parademons streamed forth form them.

He glanced back to the battle about to take place directly in front of him. He smiled grimly. There. They were in and committed.

Until now, no one had ever seen Superman unleashed. Until now, no one had seen him take to the winds to wage war. On this afternoon, full of sun and rare clouds; under the heat haze of boomtubes, gaping and writhing like transected intestines; under the stench of parademons befouling the sky, the world learned what it meant when Kal-El of Krypton, Superman, rode to war. The roar from the transonic boom heralding his arrival occurred well after the dying began.

He flew in at well over Mach fifty, coming in hot and high. The heat blowing off of him baked parademons, by the score, and they fell from the sky with a shriek and a billowing of smoke from their burnt flesh. He had his heat vision on the entire time, scanning ahead of him, dealing death by the hundreds. By the time his sonic boom announced his presence, a full quarter of Darkseid's aerial legions were dead.

He paused in the cleared globe of space around him and mentally contacted J'onn. _They're all in _he told the Manhunter. After receiving J'onn's reply, he cracked his knuckles. "Time to wreak some havoc."

****

Zatanna was bent over, listening. She straightened and looked at her fellow League members. "The battle's begun," she said. "Superman says their entire force has been committed."

"Time to roll," Steel said. They stood in one of the nearby fields. Harvest had already taken place, and the field was lying fallow. Steel pulled out a device that looked for all the world like an old-school ray gun. He took aim at a point straight in front of him and squeezed the trigger.

A wide aperture suddenly appeared and a strong vacuum formed, sucking in debris and detritus until the pressure equalized.

The boomtube stood gaping open, and Wally had the disconcerting and disgusting thought that it looked like some unspeakably vile anus. Flash grimaced in distaste. "That thing looks gross."

"Steel and I have point," Atom said. "We'll let you know if the area is clear."

"Fuck that," Wally said. "See you on the other side." With a blur, he went straight to light speed. He was back before the disturbed air from his flight had settled. "Area's secure. It's in some kind of desert. Looks like there's a city about fifty miles distant."

Atom gave me an annoyed glare. "I said Steel and I would take point," he said.

"Look Atom," Flash said. "We can stand here and argue, but the truth is that I know how to work a team of metahumans better than you. I've got more experience in this kind of thing, so let's compare dick sizes later, ok? We've got work to do." Flash turned to Zatanna. "Are you ready, Z?"

She nodded. "Let's go."

Flash stood in front of Atom and Steel, hands at his hips and jaw thrust out aggressively. "Come in straight on my heels," he said. "Have heavy weapons ready to throw. We're going in fast and hard." He gave them both hard stares. "The best man I've ever known is out there killing to see us safe," he said. "We do the same for him. I don't want see him have to stain his soul like this ever again, so if you see something that can threaten us, end it."

"Yes sir," Steel said, coming to salute and no trace of irony or sarcasm in his stance or voice.

Atom glanced at Steel in surprise before turning to face Wally. "Yes sir," Atom finally replied.

Flash nodded. "Time to run," he said, scooping up Z and dashing for the open boomtube.

"Kids got balls," Atom said, following close on Flash's heels.

****

Lantern was lost in his ring. Focused and determined, he used it in any way his imagination led him. A sythe. A hammer. A blaster that launched a hundred green missiles was his favorite. With it, killing parademons was so much easier.

Shayera and J'onn were at his flanks. J'onn to keep off the telepathic tendrils that the parademons were trying to insert into his mind; Shayera to keep at bay any parademons that thought to sneak up behind him. They flew as a tight trio, wreaking punishment and pain on hundreds of parademons. Flying against individual parademons, the Winged Phalanxes were caught in dogfights.

The battle wasn't completely one-sided, though.

Hal turned aside when he saw a parademon pluck an Amazon from her steed and hurl her to the ground. He frowned in concentration. This wasn't going to be an easy fight.

****

Darkseid and Ares stood on the bridge of the Master's flagship with General Fallow in tow. The large ships of the fleet were having trouble with maneuvering and flying. The magic of the island was playing havoc with their electronics.

Darkseid cursed. He had hoped that his own dark magic, along with that of his necromancers could have better protected his fleet than this. Without the fleet, he couldn't bring heavy weapons to bear. This battle would take longer than he had initially thought.

"Messenger says that all forces are onworld," Fallow said, sounding timorous.

"Understood," Darkseid rumbled. For a moment, the Lord briefly pondered if he had been wise to demote Thistle. At least Thistle stood straight and looked the Master in the eye when he spoke. Fallow was such a damn lickspittle. Darkseid turned to Ares. "Are you ready for your part in this?" he asked.

The God of War was accoutered with golden armor. He preened, inordinately pleased with his appearance. The self-aborbed idiot. Regardless, Darkseid had seen Ares train against the best of his parademons and generals. The Olympian could fight. That was all that Darkseid required. That and die, but the fool wasn't aware of that particular twist in the Master's plans. Seeing his look of astonishment when Darkseid betrayed him would make the nineteen months the Master had hosted the Olympian worth it.

Fallow met a winged parademon as it skated onto the bridge. With a hiss of fear, the general turned to Darkseid. He shuffled forward, trepidation in every step. No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news, and this was bad news indeed. Fallow bowed low. "Master. It seems we were misinformed about the League's personnel," he said.

"In what way?" Darkseid asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Fallow licked his thin lips. "The Kryptonian is alive."

Darkseid cursed. "Tell me the rest," he ordered a moment later.

"The sixth and seventh legions have been lost in their entirety."

Ares gasped. "All twenty thousand? The battle is but ten minutes old." He clutched at Darkseid's arm. "We must retreat," he said, gibbering with fear.

Darkseid withdrew his arm from the Olympian's grasp. With a backhand slap, he sent Ares flying, slamming him into the far bulkhead. "Are you a God of War or a God of Cowardice!" he roared. "Get off your stupid, lazy buttocks and prepare yourself. We still war," he said, pointing an angry finger at Ares. "I promise you this, by my hands, Themiscyra will be rubble." He swung back to Fallow. "Why didn't the captains and lieutenants on Apokolips inform you of this the moment it happened?"

"I'm not sure, my Lord," Fallow said, wilting under the Master's stern gaze. "They all lost communication with so many parademons all at once, they felt certain it must have been something to do with the stability of the boomtubes. They looked to correct that problem first before contacting me with the sudden loss of the two legions." He paused. "The third, eight, thirteenth, fourth, and ninth are also taking heavy casualties. Operationally, they are already down twenty-five percent ."

Darkseid cursed again. "It's likely that they have sent sappers and saboteurs to Apokolips. Thistle better hold the line." The Master looked at Fallow, considering his options. "Are our forces in position to return to Apokolips?"

"No, my Lord. They're all engaged, and in many cases cut off from the boomtubes."

"As the League must have planned for all along." Darkseid shook his head in disbelief. "They are much more cunning than I expected." Just then, he felt a trembling. Someone had activated a tachyconic pulse, ripping into the Phantom Zone. There was only one being within that chamber: Doomsday. Darkseid didn't know what purpose the League had with Doomsday, but it couldn't be good. Not for the first time did he wish that the cursed Kryptonians hadn't placed a transdimensional lock on the tachyonic prison. If not for that, he would have harvested Doomsday for his own use long ago. Or placed all of Earth within the Zone.

Regrets could be regarded later. Now was the time for action. He turned to Fallow. "We will have to hope that Thistle can defend against whoever the League sent to Apokolips," he said. "I'm sending you to stop whoever is trying to crack open the Phantom Zone and bring out Doomsday." With a shove, he sent the general stumbling. "Go." Darkseid activated a miniature boomtube, focusing on the location of the tachyonic disturbance.

Fallow was through the tube the moment it was formed. Better to be facing whatever was on the other side than the Master's displeasure.

Darkseid turned to Ares, who was only now struggling back to his feet. "You and I. We are for the north. The day can still be saved. We need only slay the Kryptonian and the Amazon and victory will be ours."

****

"They've got to know we're coming," Steel said.

"I'm sorta counting on that," Flash said with a grin.

"We're almost there," Zatanna said. "Just one more jump, and we'll land right smack dab in the middle of them."

Thus far, they had followed Zatanna's senses as she honed in on the telepathic link between the High Command and their parademon drones. Each jump through a boomtube had brought them closer to their target. They'd been involved in running battles with the forces of Apokolips the whole way.

Atom and Steel were uninjured as was Flash. Zatanna had a broken arm in a sling; the result of a parademon throwing her against a building.

Wally looked at Z. "I want to get to their boomtube generators first," he said. "Not the actual staff."

Atom nodded. "They're probably expecting us to go for the command."

"Which is why I've been so busy yelling about going after the officers," Wally said.

Atom whistled appreciatively. "Misdirection. Smart."

"I try," Wally said, sounding humble. He turned to Z. "Focus our emitter on wherever their generators are stationed. It's sure to be close to their command and control bunker."

"Got it," Z said.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Steel said. "I'm tracking what looks like a whole shitload of parademons flying our way."

Z activated the small, hand-held boomtube generator, and the four Leaguers leapt through. They were in a large warehouse-like building. Within and guarding the equipment was a squadron of parademons, looking utterly surprised.

Unfortunately for them, the League was ready. The moment they were through, Steel took a defensive position in front of Zatanna. Atom was airborne and began firing energy blasts at the still shocked parademons. Wally pulled out a supple sword. A flick of a switch and energy coursed across the blade. It glowed a neon red, matching his suit.

Until this battle, Z had never realized just how deadly Wally could be. He could move at light speed for short bursts, but even his normal jog was faster than human eyes could process. Atom and Steel were powerful, but they hadn't been the ones who had done the most damage to Darkseid's parademons. That had been Wally.

The human nervous system could transmit 1000 impulses of information per second at a speed as quick is 250 mph. Parademons were said to be faster and stronger than humans by a factor of two or three, but even they weren't quick enough for the Flash. The time it took to transmit visual data from the eyes; have it processed in the brain; and send a resultant set of orders to the muscles could be as short as 0.1 second. Flash could theoretically cover almost 20,000 miles in that time. 0.1 seconds; it was an eternity for him.

Zatanna remembered how true was that old aphorism: speed kills. Well, Wally West had speed to burn. Z just hoped that the Flash would still be able to live with himself after all the death he had dealt out today.

The Flash raced around the building, his sword raised. _Thank goodness Bruce had forced him to train with edged weapons. _He tore into the parademons. He flashed from point to point, stabbing here; slicing there. The sizzle and smell of burnt meat hung in the air. Blood sprayed wherever Wally cut or slashed, splattering in Rorschach patterns, but never getting on the Flash's uniform. He was the Fastest Man in the Universe®. He chopped at a parademon's neck, not stopping to see the head fall off. He heard it nevertheless. This whole enterprise was nauseating, and Wally wondered if he would ever get the horrible and blood-soaked images out of his mind.

He swallowed and tried not to see what he was doing. He had a mission. Fuck if he didn't sound like a demented speed-freak Bruce now. It didn't matter. There was a job to do. This was the only way of stopping Darkseid. This was the only way to help Clark. He didn't want Clark to have to kill ever again. If that meant that Wally would have to cover himself in filth and blood, so be it. It was a price he was willing to pay.

Within minutes or perhaps seconds, the place was clear of parademons. The Leaguers gathered round.

"What now?" Steel asked.

Wally turned to him. "Now, you and Atom level the place. I want it all destroyed. The moment it's ready to go, we're off to make a special delivery to the High Command."

"Done," Steel said. He turned away and fired high energy beams and missiles in all directions. Atom took off and launched heavy blasts of his own. Explosions shook the building, and smoke and fire filled the air.

"It's ready!" Atom shouted.

"Z, if you'll do the honors?" Wally asked.

Zatanna aimed the boomtube generator and squeezed the trigger.

The Leaguers jumped through. They found themselves in the midst of carnage. Bodies of torn up parademons were everywhere, lying in pools of their own blood and piss and shit. Hunks of flesh and brain and other tissue littered the floor, walls, and even ceiling. Small pockets of fighting were still going on, but it was a battle to the death. Soon, even those small remnants ended. There were less than thirty survivors of what looked like well over two thousand parademons.

"Are we in the right place?" Wally asked.

"This was where I sensed all the telepathic communication coming from," Zatanna answered.

"The fuck happened here?" Steel whispered.

A taller parademon, one of the few survivors, walked toward them. His hands were raised. "I did," he said.

Steel had a missile ready in an instant and Atom had his hand raised in warning, energy crackling from his fingertips.

"I am not your enemy," the parademon said halting at twenty feet away.

"Who are you?" Wally demanded.

The parademon smiled wryly. "I was once the commander of the legions attacking your friends on Themiscyra," he said. "Before that, I was of New Genesis." His jaw clenched. "I am _still_ of New Genesis. My name is Thistle."

Wally whistled. "I'm betting old rock-face didn't expect this."

"Probably not. We need to talk," the one called Thistle said. "But first,' he gestured about, at the other parademons. "I've made them docile. Do you mind doing the honors?"

"I don't know," Wally said. This felt too much like simple murder. The parademons were defenseless.

Steel and Atom had no such reservations. They began laying into the parademons, killing them all within a few bloody seconds.

****

Bruce waited in space, far north of the elliptic plane. He had been out here for almost two days, waiting patiently for J'onn to signal. Batman had to sit here on his ass and wait until J'onn told him that all of Darkseid's forces were committed to Themiscyra. Darkseid himself would be present on Earth, and as result, wouldn't be able to boomtube someone or someones in from Apokolips. He'd have to rely solely on his forces on Themiscyra.

It was likely that Darkseid would sense it when Bruce cracked upon the Phantom Zone. The old bastard would probably send one of his dumbass minions to find out what was going on.

Batman had to be prepared for incoming. He smiled grimly. He was ready. That was rule one of his mission playbook: be prepared for all eventualities. Which was why he was wearing a Batsuit with no cape to slow him down or get in the way and full helmet rather than just a cowl.

All he had to do was sit here and twiddle his thumbs.

He reviewed the mission profile. If Clark was true to his word and went full out in this fight, Bruce calculated that he should have most, if not all aerial legions on his end of the island destroyed in about fifteen minutes. That would be the key, though: would Clark go full out?

Bruce had reason to believe he would; not simply because he had promised to – and the boyscout always kept his promises – but also because of his obvious feelings for Diana. That could eventually be a weakness, Bruce mused. His strong feelings…_Jesus, Bruce, it's called love_, he told himself. Ok. Fine. The _love_ that Clark had for Diana; it could eventually be used against him.

Bruce wondered if Clark had considered all the angles. Usually Superman just plowed straight ahead with no foresight or planning. It had gotten him into plenty of shit before, but he'd always come out roses on the other side, thanks to all his gifts. Clark had probably not thought any of this through. That was just his way: leap and fuck such pedestrian things as observing or planning.

Bruce thought about that some more. Was that entirely fair? He frowned. Maybe not. Clark was immune to kryptonite now and had the discretion to keep that choice bit of intel to himself. Given that, it also stood to reason that Clark might be immune to magic as well.

The more Bruce considered the idea, the more certain he was that it was true. Clark wouldn't have fixed one weakness only to leave another glaring one unrepaired. Ever since that incident with Max Lord when Clark had taken that year off, he'd come back harder; quicker to pull the trigger and lay the hammer to the Five Hundred. The battle with Grundy was a case in point. The battle against Doomsday was another.

The old Clark wouldn't have survived the Kryptonian monster. This one had, and would have eventually been fine if his friends – and Batman included himself in this company – hadn't sent what they thought was his carcass to roast in the sun.

This Clark was tough. Bruce trusted that he would do what needed to be done.

Bruce sat up straight. It was J'onn. _All Apokoliptian forces accounted for and committed. Ten minutes in and invading northern air legions destroyed in their entirety. You have a go._

Game time.

Bruce activated the transdimensional key to open the tachyonic prison. A rip opened in space, a slitted eye from some unimaginably large reptile. Somehow, it was blacker than the empty space around it. This then was door leading to the Phantom Zone. If only there were a way to close the door behind him until his job was done here. Then he wouldn't have to risk de-planing and going head-to-head with whatever creepy-crawly Darkseid was sure to send after him.

Bruce goosed the Javelin's engines and entered the aperture. He really didn't want to do this.

An interminable second, where it seemed like his body was being twisted and stretched and blown apart, and he was through.

The Javelin floated over a grey and dusty world at the center of the Zone. A permanent twilight reigned here, highlighting the unforgiving knifelike cliffs that seemed to travel in unending waves in all directions. Dim shadows, like midnight lichen, spread in patchy and contradictory patterns on the canyon floors. It was a dead world, and compared to it, Apokolips was a sylvan Eden. Despite this, the place had a breathable atmosphere.

Bruce monitored the homing beacon.

Ah yes. There was Doomsday stasis crypt. Fucking monster.

He had to be quick about this. Darkseid had likely already sicced a minion on his ass. Batman lowered a grappling hook that was connected to a winch.

Proximity sensors went off. A single parademon had thrust through the door to the Zone. Damn. The thing had already spotted him. If he had already had the cargo on board, Bruce would have just taken off and left the stupid cretin to linger here in the Zone. As it was, he'd have to get out and fight the thing. Otherwise, the parademon would simply unhook the cargo and flap off with it.

Bruce turned the Javelin and fired on the parademon, hoping that the computer's auto-correction would improve his aim and allow him to bring the parademon down from a distance. No such luck. He missed again and again. The parademon swept under the wings of the Javelin, momentarily lost to visuals.

Shit. The beastie was smarter than Batman expected. It flapped down, right on top of Doomsday's crypt. There was no way Bruce could fire now; not without destroying the crypt and unleashing Doomsday.

He'd have to de-plane.

So bet it.

Batman unstrapped himself from the Javelin's restraints. He stepped to the exit and took a deep breath. _Keep it frosty, Bruce. _He tightened his gauntlets and glanced at the monitor. The damn thing was still squatting on top of the crypt.

Nothing to it, then. Time to go stomp that mudhole dry. He flicked open the door and dove to the side. An energy beam of some sort scarred and burned the Javelin inches from where he had just been.

If the beastie had been smart enough to take up the only position where Bruce couldn't fire at it, then it probably had identified him as Batman by now. The parademon would know who it face and was likely to fire again. Bruce had to move. The best place to dodge would be straight up. Batman jumped high, and small rockets in his boots activated. He was carried up twenty-five feet. He sighted and fired off a thin series of concussive darts.

The parademon moved. It was much faster than a human. It rose in the air, and Batman had trouble tracking it. It smashed into Bruce, pounding him into the ground. Only the Batsuit protected Bruce from razor sharp claws. The talons skittered against Batman's helmet, carving a deep groove in them.

It punched and kicked and even bit at Batman. It growled in frustration.

It would be firing again, probably straight at the face. Batman blinked, a heuristic command and the exterior of his entire suit suddenly had a mirror-like sheen. The energy beam bounced of Batman's suit and punctured one of the wings of the parademon. It cried out in pain.

It reared back and punched him. He felt it, even through the suit. He tried to twist and turn and kick his way free, but the creature was too strong.

It bent low and hissed at him. "Stupid human. Did you really think to challenge the Lord?" It had its claws hooked around Bruce's neck, squeezing down and trying to choke him since it hadn't been able to cut through the suit.

Batman went limp, letting the creature lean higher.

He had it.

He swung his legs up until his ass was off the ground and his ankles had crossed behind the creature's head. He had the beast's neck clamped between his calves. He grabbed the creatures wrists and while simultaneously squeezing tightly at the knees, he PULLED. The sound of the parademon's elbows snapping was music to his ears.

The monster flopped off of him, screaming.

Batman kicked himself up. He winked, another command, and his right arm suddenly glowed, crackling with energy. He punched down at the fallen parademon. His right arm hammered into the fallen creature's gut with the force of high-powered elephant gun, exploding at through its back.

Fallow shrieked in pain, knowing he had failed and was about to die. He had presence of mind to note that the human's suit no longer held a mirror-like sheen. With his last fading energy, one last time, his eyes glowed, and he fired his beams straight into the human's belly. His vision faded, but not before he heard the human crying out in pain.

"Ah hell," Bruce muttered. One wrong move, and he was out of it. He had wanted to end the fight with finality, and in doing so, he had left himself vulnerable to the parademon's energy beam. The suit could make do many things, but not many of them simultaneously. Now he would have to pay the price for that limitation and for his mistake. His vision faded as he prepared to pass from this life into the next.


	22. Chapter 22

This is still the battle, and there's still curse words used pretty regularly.

**Chapter 22**

The battle had been raging for twenty minutes, and Darkseid was shocked at the losses his Army was taking. In the north, the legions were in disarray. His aerial forces were all dead, and the five on the ground were quickly being decimated by the combined might of the Amazon and Kryptonian.

The Master noticed immediately when the boomtubes closed. Thistle had failed. If the lieutenant still lived, he would die in the Pit. Retribution would have to wait. Right now, Darkseid faced the prospect of no command and control of the few forces left in the north. There were no senior parademons left among the northern legions. Darkseid could re-institue control directly, but that wasn't going to be possible since he would be busy fighting the Kryptonian.

So be it.

The Lord of Apokolips sent the remaining parademons a simple directive: disperse and destroy anything. Darkseid couldn't capture the island with the forces he had on hand, but he could still wreak and ruin it.

In the south, he came across a single parademon that had regained its memories. He smiled. That one would do.

He focused and passed command to that parademon. It's imperative was to disregard all other foes and attack the League members. After all, if not for the Lantern and the others, the Themiscyran army in the south would have been rolled by Darkseid's superior forces. Instead, the Army of Apokolips was being steadily ground down.

Kill the League, and the Themiscyrans would crumble.

It was done. Darkseid boomtubed himself and Ares into the heart of the battle in the north. Time to kill a Superman.

****

Bruno Mannheim found himself in control of the southern forces. The third legion had been mauled and was almost gone. The eight and thirteenth were functional, but had also suffered heavy losses. The tenth and fourteenth were a bit fresher, but even they had suffered casualties. He was also down to a single aerial legion.

The enemy had not taken nearly as many losses. Bruno had been given knowledge of the enemy's disposition of forces. According to the Master, the Themiscyrans fought in groups of five hundred. Originally, the Army of Apokolips had been facing about fifteen hundred Amazons in the air and another five thousand on the ground. Thus far, the parademons had whittled that number down to about twelve hundred in the air and four thousand on the ground.

Mannheim's orders were clear. He was to disregard the Amazons from now on and focus entirely upon the three members of the League.

He grinned. Payback motherfuckers. He sent a command to all the parademons, thrilling at the sudden power he had. As one, they turned to face away from the Amazons and attacked the three members of the League. Mannheim flew toward the trio, ensuring that he was cocooned within a large and safe nest of his fellow parademons. No reason to flit about on the fringes and risk getting shot.

****

Aristomache's hands were covered in gore. Blood caked her hair and unidentifiable bits and pieces of parademon tissue decorated her kit. She felt sticky.

Suddenly, she noticed a change. Until then, the Scylla had been pressured hard by the parademons on the ground. Suddenly, the demons had all turned tail and were racing back. They took horrific losses in their pell mell flight. No thought was given to laying down suppressive cover or falling back in an orderly fashion. There were no teams to fire over the heads of their retreating fellows and cover their retreat. It was a rout.

She shrugged. If the enemy were stupid, all the better for Themiscyra. It was then that she noticed that all the parademons were heading for the same location: the trio from the League, who were now surrounded and cut-off.

Palatinea, the captain of the Scylla saw this as well. "Bitches! First, third, and fifth squads. Bows up. Cover us. The rest of you. Form on me. Shields and swords. Don't hold back on the spears. Hoof it. We reach the League or we reach death. Move!"

Aristomache strapped her bow to her quiver at her back. She loosened her sword and swung her shield in front of her.

"Pace off at one hundred strides per!" the Sycalla commander shouted. As they closed the distance, the leader shouted. "Charge!"

With a roar, the Syclla launched itself forward, all spears flying through the air and impaling hundreds of the parademons. They carved a gap into the horde, backed up by other phalanxes to prevent the Eighth from being cut off.

It has hard and bloody work. Aristomache lifted her sword and chopped away at any exposed parademon flesh. The ground was slippery with blood and the footing became uneven with hacked off arms, wings, legs, and heads.

The Syclla rended on.

****

Artemis had boldly told Superman to stand aside and watch how Amazon's warred. He'd thrown that challenge back in her face. She had been angry with his words as she and the Ripper, the Fourth Wing, had flown toward the enemy. She had been certain he had just been a blustery fool. Like all men. Instead, he had blown past them, from on high and so fast, that she could only feel the rippling heat and wind of his swift deadly swift flight.

The Ripper was still two minutes from the massing parademons when Superman had reached Darkseid's horde.

Artemis knew awe as she saw Superman bring battle to the enemy. He killed hundreds in less time than it took for her to draw a breath. That wasn't the end of it though. He became a cyclone, a tornado of destruction. He had said death rode with him, and surely he hadn't been lying. Kal-El of Krypton must have tamed Thanatos for wherever he went, parademons died. It was like watching an ancient account of one of the great Olympians unfurling their might. It was exhilarating and utterly terrifying. What power this man had?

By the time the Ripper had arrived, the parademons were routed. All that was left was to mop up the dregs. Superman didn't stand still. Diana had reached the legions on the ground, and she, along with the Medusa, the Third Phalanx and had engaged them. The Kryptonian bolted down and killed everything that lived within a hundred yard wide path as he swept overhead. He must have killed hundreds with that pass. Thousands more died at his hands in the minutes that came.

Artemis glanced at her sisters. Not a one of them was unhorsed or even injured, and the skies were already clear of all enemies.

With a single shriek, enough to raise the hairs on her arms, the remaining parademons unfurled wings and took to flight. There was no massing of forces. They simply spread out, flying in ever direction.

Artemis watched in horror as they flew toward the interior the island, uprooting trees, burning crops, killing animals. They were bent on total war.

She toggled her epikoinono, her communicator. "All Fourth, pursue and destroy the parademons in groups of two." She sighed. "Women, this will be hard work, so keep it tight and stay alert. I don't want any deaths from this mop up."

As she reined in her Pegasus, and prepared to pull in alongside Donna Troy, a tremble in the sky and a rip appeared, followed by thunder. A boomtube opened and from it, marching forth with pride and anger, encased in his golden armor, came Ares, the God of War. He did not look amused. Behind him, though, was another. Bleak and dark, he walked with purpose. While Ares was impressive; this one was fearsome; where Ares glowed, this one sucked in the light. He pushed Ares aside as if the God were simply an underling.

The dark one floated in the sky and spoke in a voice like gravel grinding. "Kryptonian. Come and test your mettle against me," he challenged. His voice was like a harbinger of desolation.

Artemis shivered. This was no place for simple humans. Gods were about to wage war. She flicked a look at Donna, and without further thought, the two of them reined in their pegasi and chased after the fleeing parademons.

****

"Come forth, bitch," Ares yelled. "Your God commands your presence."

Diana saw Ares, floating in the sky in vain pride. She rocketed up until she was at eye level with him. "You are no god of mine," Diana taunted. "You're simply a withered little boy, afraid and weak."

Ares smiled, nasty and hateful. "When I have tamed you bitch, we will see who is weak and who is withered," he said. "Before this day is done, I'll have you bent over, begging for my seed to fill you."

"Strong talk little weakling, but we both know it's only virgin sheep who need fear your defiling touch."

With a roar of anger, Ares charged.

The outcome was never in doubt. Ares was stronger and faster, but he never sought to train against those who might beat him. He never tested himself against those who were his superior, or even his equal.

Diana, on the other hand, had spent much of the past decade training against Kal-El of Krypton and Bruce Wayne and Wally West and Hal Jordan and the rest of the League. She was a much more deadly fighter than she had been when she'd left Themiscyra.

She side-stepped the charging Ares. She hammered the god's head with a back swing of her elbow as he fell past her. Rolling into the spin, her foot came up and cracked the god in the chin just as he turned around. A straight punch to the chest and the god was knocked backward. Ares briefly lost control of his flight and fell toward the ground.

Diana flew toward him and spun. Once more, she swung a back fist. She connected with a thundercrack, flush to his face with her gauntlet-clad wrist. Ares went limp and plummeted even further.

Diana kept after him, punching and kicking him all the way until he hit the ground.

The god recovered quickly and caught one of her punches and head-butted her. A crunch of cartilage and bone, and blood spurted from her broken nose. Ares followed up with another punch to her chest, knocking her down.

He landed astride her supine form. Ares leered. "Get used to this," he gloated. "I'll ride you longer and harder than Heracles did your bitch mother."

A kick from her foot to the back of his head, and Ares flopped on top of her. She twisted and rolled him over. He covered up, and she landed elbows and punches to his face. One shot to chest, and she heard a crack. He groaned. Another shot to the same place, and he dropped his hands to cover his ribs. A flush punch to the face, and Ares' nose broke. Blood gushed.

With a heave, he threw her off of him. She landed and spun. Diana was ready as he stumbled to his feet. He drew his sword. "You'll die for this," he promised. He swung down at her, with all his strength.

She stepped aside and chopped at his wrists. He dropped the sword. A knee to the guts, and he was lifted off his feet. He landed on his backside with a whoopfh. Diana picked up the sword. She held it to his throat. "Yield," she said. She was not in a forgiving mood. If the god did not surrender, she would gut him.

He held up his hands, a crestfallen look on his face. "Peace, Princess. You have bested me."

She nodded acceptance.

Just then, using one of the oldest tricks in the book, Ares threw dirt in her eyes.

As Diana stumbled back, she heard the 'snick' of a dagger being drawn. She desperately sought to clear her vision. She held the sword at the ready in front of her. Dimly, she saw his onrushing form.

A whir in the air, and the brush of the knife past her cheek.

"Damn you, Darkseid!" Ares yelled.

A perfect straight thrust. She felt the sword bite into flesh. She finally cleared her vision. She had impaled Ares through the throat. Diana pulled the sword free, and the god fell to his knees.

Ares gurgled out his life. Blood ran red down the blade. "My father will avenge me," the War God promised.

"Perhaps so," Diana said, "but you will not see it.

With that, the life of Ares, the God of War, fled from his body.

Thunder rumbled.

****

Hal held a shield around himself and Shayera. Atop a small hill they stood. J'onn had faded out and was outside the barrier Lantern had raised. Desperately, the Manhunter sought to thin the horde trying to kill his friends. There were too many of them. Shayera stood to Hal's side. He could feel her silent presence, trapped alongside him. He wished she was elsewhere; somewhere safe. He couldn't even lift them out of danger. There were just too many parademons on the shield.

Unless they got some heavy duty help and soon, the parademons would eventually drain the energy from his ring. When that happened, he and Shayera would die.

He didn't want that to happen. Not now. Not ever. He couldn't let that happen. She was pregnant. Their child. She had told him the night before. He'd wanted her out of this fight, but she insisted on coming. She was a warrior, not a shrinking violet. It was why he loved her. It was why he feared she would die alongside him.

He gritted his teeth. He would hold on as long as it took.

****

"Why did you do this?" Atom demanded, taking an aggressive step forward.

Thistle wasn't listening. His head was bent in concentration. Darkseid had sent a command. He wanted a tachyonic bubble prepared. He wanted a ridiculous amount of energy committed to maintaining it as well. Another order came from Fallow. He needed a boomtube opened to a position above Earth's elliptic. What was going on?

Thistle thought, his mind flitting over possibilities. With a smile, he looked up. He had it. The Phantom Zone. Doomsday. Darkseid couldn't be allowed to get his hands on the monster. He turned to the League, who were still glaring at him with suspicion. "Go back to your world," he said. "Your fight here is over." With that, he opened a boomtube to the position Fallow had stated and flew through it. "Tell my father I love him," he called back.

"Wait! Who's your father?" Zatanna asked.

The answer came as the boomtube was closing. "Orion."

"Shit," Wally said into the sudden silence. A few seconds passed before the Flash shook the thoughts out his head. _Deal with it later. _"Z. Fire up the boomtube. We've done what we came here to do."

Steel looked around. "Fuckin' a we did." He and Atom fist-thumped each other.

Wally glanced at them in irritation. "We aren't done yet," he said. "Our friends are facing fifteen thousand of these mother humpers."

That sobered them up.

Z aimed the generator, and the boomtube came to life. The three Leaguers leapt through. The sudden din of the battle on Themiscyra was shocking in its intensity after the cryptlike silence of the command and control center on Apokolips.

"That huge ass pile of parademons." Wally gestured. "I'm betting that's where our friends are."

"Time to kick some more ass," Steel said, launching up. "Come get some, your ugly motherfuckers," he shouted.

Atom followed close on his contrails.

"Stay out of trouble," Wally ordered Z, who was still cradling her broken arm. With that he was gone.

****

Thistle found himself floating in space. A large rent, like a hideous eye peered at him, somehow blacker than all the surrounding vacuum. That's where Fallow was. He dove into the Phantom Zone, not bothered by the tearing and twisting sensation that came with entering the tachyonic prison. His body was more than tough enough to take such pain.

He sensed the ebb and flow of energy on the desolate grey world. His senses led him unerringly to Fallow, who was already dead. Lying near him was a black-suited human. Thistle recognized him. He was called the Batman. Fallow had been many times faster and stronger than the human, and could fly as well. Impressive that Batman had taken down a general of Darkseid's army.

Thistle sighed.

Whatever plan Batman had for Doomsday, it would come to naught. It was over for the human, unless…Thistle felt sudden excitement. If the human's mind wasn't completely dead…yes. It might be possible for Thistle to find what the League wanted to do with Doomsday. Thistle would have to be quick in his searching.

Telepathically, Thistle reached for the human's mind. He was shocked to find that the Batman still lived.

****

_Bruce struggled to stay afloat. In all the time he had lived, he'd never given up. Quitting wasn't in his vocabulary. The surface was so far away, but that didn't matter. He was like a swimmer, struggling to break to the air. He held on. The situation was hopeless, but he couldn't surrender to the inevitable. It wasn't in his nature._

_He held to life, with all the grit and determination that allowed a simple man to walk as an equal among immeasurably more powerful titans. If this was his last battle, he'd fight until he had nothing left. That was his real secret: he never held back. He gave everything his all. It was the only way he knew how to live._

'_You are Batman,' a voice rasped._

_Bruce was surprised. That didn't sound like the voice of God. 'Who are you?'_

'_I am Thistle,' the voice said. With that, the voice was gone, but in its place was a kaleidoscope of images and emotions from another life. Childhood; joy; young adulthood; pride in accomplishment; a father's love' a mother's worry; service to one's world; capture; torture. Batman flinched from some of the images. How could anyone do such things to another being? It was disgusting. Bruce felt befouled just from witnessing such depravity. More images. More emotions. Finally, vengeance as Thistle betrayed Darkseid and fought and succeeded in destroying the entire High Command of the invading army._

'_My purpose is complete,' Thistle said. 'Yours is not. What was it you wished to do with the monster known as Doomsday?'_

_Batman smirked. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'_

'_You are dying,' Thistle said. 'Soon you will be dead. It need not be that way.'_

_Batman was wary. 'What do you mean?'_

'_I have linked our minds. If I so chose, I could change places with you. Your mind to my body, and mine to yours.'_

_Batman smelled a trick. Thistle was a parademon. That much was clear from all the images he had shown. There was no way he was going to trust a parademon to be so generous._

_Thistle sighed. He had lived long enough to achieve his vengeance. He'd had a hand in the destruction of Darkseid's army. And now, Thistle could do even more. Despite the human's best efforts, Thistle knew the purpose for which Batman planned on using Doomsday. It was a plan Thistle approved of._

_He was tired, though. Tired in spirit. Thistle had not been taught to search for vengeance. He had always been taught that justice and giving of one's self for others were the highest ideals. He no longer had the strength to be so selfless as to live as a servant, but perhaps this Batman still did._

_It was clear that the human would allow himself to die rather than trust Thistle. Since that was the case, then things would have to be done the hard way._

_Thistle gathered almost all that there was of himself. At the same time, he reached for all that Batman was; every last scrap of memory; every emotion; every love; every last detail. He wrenched it free from the human's body and simultaneously, he shoved his own self into the human and pulled the human persona into that of the parademon._

Batman struggled to his feet. What had just happened? He looked at his hands. They were clawed. He looked down and saw himself lying on the ground, face up and smiling.

"I gave you no choice," Thistle said from Bruce's body. "My sacrifice so that you may live. This the final means by which I honor the teachings of my father." The last breath passed from Bruce's body, and Thistle was dead.

A memory within him stirred, something outside his own conscience. _'I left a small part of me behind.' It was Thistle's voice. 'You need to understand and know all that this body can do_._ Incorporate this memory within your own so that you can use the parademon's body to full advantage.'_

Bruce considered that offer. After a moment, he shrugged. This was as unbelievable as they come. He smirked. Let's see Clark top this one. He breathed in the memory, fusing it to his own, and a world of possibilities opened up to him.

Bruce smiled. On the parademon's face it was sickly and devious, but that didn't matter. The parademon body twisted and blurred. The wings folded neatly against his back, disappearing. Bruce continued to smile, and a moment later, he was wearing what appeared to be his own cowled face and his own batsuitted body. His smile held steady, but now it was the inimitable and bleak smile of the Batman. It was the smile that had frightened hardened criminals into pissing their pants. "You thought I was a badass before," he said in his softest and deadliest voice. "Gotham's worst are totally fucked now."

He glanced down, seeing his own body, Thistle's now, bloodied and dead. The smile slipped from his face, and he bowed his head. "Thank you, Calmstorm. Your father will know of this. I promise you."

Batman carried the body of Calmstorm into the Javelin, where he gently placed it in a stasis chamber. Next came Doomsday's crypt. Carrying it by hand was simplicity itself. Fallow lay where he fell, forgotten and forlorn.

Batman fired up the Javelin. Time to join the fight.

****

A last flicker and Lantern's ring gave way. With a cry, he fell. Shayera bestrided his fallen form. She stood athwart the hill, lashing out with her mace. Parademons by the dozens were flung back by the force of her blows.

But they came in the hundreds, and their numbers eventually overcame her. They threw her down, pinning her wings to the dirt. She turned her head and screamed as she saw what was about to happen.

****

The parademon known as Bruno Mannheim held the Green Lantern by the throat. "Revenge is a dish best served cold. And so you will be. Cold as a corpse." With that, he casually ripped out the Lantern's throat.

He cackled in glee.

****

Aristomache and the Scylla fought up the hill against the massed parademons. Their sisters from the other phalanxes patrolled the Scylla's flanks and rear. Aristomache saw the Lantern's light go out.

"They must not fall!" Aristomache shouted. She redoubled her efforts, as did the rest of the Scylla.

"Rend them!" the captain shouted.

Aristomache witnessed Hawkgirl standing astride the hill, protecting her mate. The Scylla arrived just as the winged Leaguer was pulled down and swords thrust through her wings, pinning her. Aristomache gained the top of the hill in time to hear the parademon cackle as it ripped out the Lantern's throat. She saw the green light go out from the man's eyes, and the ring float free of his finger, flying away into the distance.

A moment later, Bruno Mannheim looked up, just in time to see his doom in the form of a dark haired, dark-skinned Amazon. There was no mercy on her face. He screamed just before she took his head.

Shayera witnessed all of this, and tears leaked from her eyes. Hal was gone. She wept for herself. She wept for her child. Her beloved Hal was dead.

Shayera of Thanagar screamed. Her mace was by her hand and she picked it up and smashed into shards the swords pinning her wings. She stood. The parademons were attacking one another. The creatures flew in erratic patterns, fighting anything that moved.

Fine. Let them fight her. With her wings leaking blood, she took to the sky, looking for something to kill.

Flash saw Lantern lying on the ground. A savage rip marred his throat. He wanted to cry, but there was still work to do. He heard Shayera scream and saw her lift into the air. "Atom. Steel. Protect her!" he shouted to the other Leaguers.

They glanced at him and then at Shayera before nodding and taking off, keeping parademons off her back.

Flash pulled out his sword and activated it. Its neon glow cast sinister shadows on his cold face. Any parademons on the ground were dead. He blurred and the killing continued.

****

Darkseid and Superman raged across Themiscyra. They were evenly matched: Darkseid's power against Superman's speed. They both witnessed Diana killing Ares.

Darkseid laughed. "No matter what else occurs, my work here is done," he said. He grinned wide. "Ares has fulfilled his part in our bargain by dying at the hands of the Amazon."

"You planned that," Kal said, not surprised at all. "You made sure his knife missed Diana."

"Of course. With his murder, Zeus will have to withdraw all Olympian gifts given to her. That alone is worth the price of my presence on this insignificant ball of dirt."

Kal smiled. "Speaking of dirt, I think you should try some." Kal sped forward and punched Darkseid with everything he had, blasting him halfway across the island. Darkseid came to a stop, having crashed through most of a jungle. He stood up, spitting out mud and leaves and twigs.

Kal-El stood before him, a taunting smile on his face. "How does the mud on this insignificant ball of dirt taste, Darkseid ?"

"You dare mock me?" The Master demanded, outraged.

The smile left Kal's face. "I dare that and more," he said. "I spit in your teeth," he growled. "This is my world to protect, and mister, you just broke into the wrong fucking planet."

"Brave words, little man." With that, Darkseid rushed forward. Kal met him in the middle. He got his arms under Darkseid's. With a lift and a torque, he twisted the old demon, slamming him against the turf. Kal was astride him instantly. He rained punches on Darkseid's unprotected face.

Darkseid's rock armor started to crack and his blood started to spill. An especially hard punch got through, and Darkseid spit out teeth.

The Omega beams shot out, met in mid-air by Kal's heat vision. The two struggled against one another, neither giving an inch. Kal was fine with a stalemate, though. He didn't need to win. She was coming in hot. She'd be here in seconds.

"Can I play or is the guy's only game," a lovely voice asked. Without waiting for an answer, Diana dropped a heavy elbow on Darkseid's forehead, splitting it open.

The Lord of Apokolips screamed and managed to throw off Superman. He stumbled to his feet, faced with two foes, either of which were nearly his equal. Together, they'd tear him apart. He knew it, and by their stances, they knew it to.

Darkseid smiled. "You don't have me yet." He pressed a button on his wrist.

Agony filled Diana. Pain such as she had never known could exist.

Darkseid chuckled at seeing his fallen foes. "It is called the Agony Matrix. It is firing every one of your pain receptors all at once."

Kal felt the torture ripping through him, but he also knew that he'd felt worse. He had survived being burned to ashes within the sun's corona, and this was nowhere near as bad. He focused on the pain, and let it wash through him, shutting it out with his Kryptonian coldness. Ice encased his mind, and the pain was locked outside. He stood and faced Darkseid.

A brief blast from his heat vision, and the Agony Matrix was sparks and charred metal.

Diana arose, shaking off the last of the torture.

Darkseid chuckled and activated a boomtube. The Master of Apokolips was bloodied and battered but unbowed. He rose, floating to the boomtube. "So be it. The field is yours," he said. "But look upon fair Themiscyra. The desecration I have visited to this place. Consider it my gift to you."

"Then please accept our gift as well," a deep voice intoned. Batman stepped out of a boomtube of his own, dragging Doomsday's crypt with him. Bruce pressed a button, and the stasis chamber shot forward, clipping Darkseid and knocking him aside.

The Lord of Apokolips understood what was within the crypt a moment too late. He reached out to stop it, but his fingers only caught air. He glared at the trio facing him. His mouth dropped in shock and consternation. He closed it with an angry snap. He nodded at the them with faint admiration and a sneering smile. "It is not over," he said, stepping into the boomtube and following after Doomsday.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Kal turned to Bruce. "Who are you?" he growled. This was not Batman. His heartbeat was all wrong. He smelled wrong. He moved wrong, like he was offbalance. Bruce wasn't clumsy – far from it – and this…thing, whatever it was, seemed on the verge of falling on its face with ever step that it took. HeHekljlBeyond that…Kal looked closer. It was a parademon. With a hiss, he rushed forward and slammed the creature against a tree. "You better have a good answer for why you're dressed like that," Kal said. His eyes glowed in warning.

"Kal, what is this?" Diana asked, looking worried.

"It isn't Bruce," Kal said. He didn't take his eyes of the creature. "It's a parademon."

Diana was furious, that much was clear from her stance as she came to stand alongside Kal.

Bruce smiled. At least that part of him looked the same. "I've got a story to tell," he said, sounding as calm as always despite having the two most powerful beings on Earth ready to tear him into pieces. Bruce turned to Diana. "Could you lasso me?" he asked. "It's the only way the two of you will believe what I have to say."

With that, Bruce explained what had happened in the Phantom Zone.

Kal was horrified. "And you're ok with this?" he asked.

Bruce smiled wryly. "I'm much more dangerous now than I ever was before," he said.

That wasn't much of an answer, and Kal hid a shudder. Batman had always been dangerous, skirting the edge of what it meant to be human. Kal worried that this transformation would be the tipping point beyond which Bruce Wayne would become that which he had always struggle against: a psychopath.

"Are you sure? You're agreeable to this change?" Diana asked, searching Bruce's face since she no longer had him lassoed.

"No, I'm not alright with it." The smile fell. "Didn't really have much choice, though, did I? Shit. What's Alfred going to say?"

A few more minutes of discussion, and Bruce ended the conversation. "I've got to go back to the Javelin," he said. "I left it up above the elliptic."

"We'll talk later," Kal promised.

"Looking forward to it," Bruce said, sounding sour.

After he boomtubed away, Kal turned to Diana. "We should get back and help with clean-up," he said. "The battle's still going on."

"How many are left?"

Kal concentrated. "By the number of parademon heartbeats I'm hearing, I'd say about forty thousand." He listened more closely. "The Amazons are in pursuit, flying in teams of two. The parademons are just flapping around, killing anything that moves, including each other." A second later, his face fell, and his eyes closed in pain. "Damn," he said softly.

"What is it," Diana asked, almost afraid to ask.

"It's Lantern," Kal said. "He's gone. Shayera's killing parademons by the score. Atom and Steel are flanking her as her wingman."

Diana's face fell. "Let's go, Kal. The sooner we get this done with, the quicker we can…" She ran out of words. Hal was dead. Why did that hurt so much? So many of her sisters had likely died today, and she would mourn them and honor their memory. But, Hal…that one hurt like one of Kal's punches to the gut.

"Let's get it done," Kal agreed.

They took to the air and split up, with Kal taking the north and Diana the south. It took hours more to finally put down the last of the parademons; hours in which some of the phalanxes began the long and bloody work of sorting through the carnage, finding the dead, and hoping to find the wounded. There were painfully few of those. Those were rushed to Epione, the Amazon's healer, and placed under the Purple Ray. When the final tally was taken, of the roughly seven thousand Amazons that had started the day, five thousand still lived. It could have been worse, but that was small consolation for women who knew that friends and lovers that they had known for hundreds of years, even millennia, were now gone from the world.

When the last parademon was killed, the phalanxes reformed and marched back to Themiscyra proper. A strange silence filled the air. It was a sad and melancholy victory for a nation of women that had once known no other way of life other than battle and war. That had been three millennia ago, though, back when they had been mortal. Death hadn't been a part of their life in so long, that to see that cruel reaper once more took away any joy they once may have had in such a resounding victory.

The queen had taken part in the battle from astride a Pegasus, along with Phillipus. The Gorgon Watch had flown with them, guarding the general and the queen as they oversaw the battle. She watched as her proud Amazons marched silently and with heads held down. They had always been so few, and now were even fewer. What would they do?

They reached the capital, and formed up in the main square. Hippolyta took the stone stage from which she had spoken the commands of both queen and council on countless other occasions. The phalanxes were waiting to be dismissed.

A tremble in a cloudless sky and a loud peal of thunder. Everyone glanced up, looking for the source of the sound; all hoping it wasn't a boomtube. Electricity arced in a long and continuous discharge, striking directly in front of the queen. Riding the lightning came Zeus. With him were the other four remaining Olympians: Athena, Apollo, Hera, and Aphrodite.

Zeus wore a countenance of utter fury. The others mimicked that expression to various degrees.

Hippolyta bowed low. "Lord Zeus, it has been over a hundred years since we have been graced with your presence."

Zeus glowered. "I wish it could have been in happier circumstances," he said. "I am sorry for the losses you and your tribe suffered this day."

Hippolyta nodded acceptance at his words.

Kal and the League stood in the back of the phalanxes. Pride of place belonged to the Amazons, not interlopers from the Patriarch's world. That included Diana in this instance. Kal couldn't help but think that the losses wouldn't have been so grievous if the Olympians had taken part in the battle.

His thoughts were echoed by Shayera. "Fuck him and his sorrow. Where was he and the rest of those fucking assholes when we were out here fighting and dying. Hal might be alive if it weren't for those candy-asses sitting on their fucking thrones." She looked at the Olympians with undisguised contempt and disgust. "Bastards."

Atom and Steel nodded at her words as did Flash. Some of the Amazons had also heard what she said and turned to look at her. Some pursed their lips and nodded, as though in silent agreement. Once, Diana would have smashed a fist into the face of anyone who would have dared say such a thing. Today, she kept silent.

"Let the one known as Diana step forth," Zeus proclaimed.

Diana had almost been expecting this. She had denied Ares as a god, and she had slain him. The gods would punish her for both offenses. She flew to the stage, glad to see Kal had joined her. With a start, she realized that it was actually the entire League that was at her back.

She bowed. Once she would have bowed lower. "I am come as my Lord commands," she said.

"Am I your Lord?" Zeus asked. "Are any of us still?" He gestured behind him to the other Olympians.

"Your words were heard, child of Hippolyta," Hera said, her voice cold. Anger was in her posture and her eyes. After all, Ares had been her son. "You denied the godhood of one of the Olympians. That is an offense punishable by banishment."

"You compounded your error by then slaying Ares," Athena said. "That too is a punishable offense. In this case, death."

"I do not know that we need be so cruel," Apollo said. "She has been a loyal and valuable servant to us in times past."

It seemed as though she had at least one ally amongst the Olympians. Although. She gave Apollo a considering look. Apollo and Ares had detested each other since their birth. Perhaps the sun god was simply glad to be rid of one with whom he always quarreled.

Hippolyta's face drained of color. She prostrated herself before Zeus. "I beg of you my Lord, do not do such a thing."

Zeus regarded the queen gravely for a moment, before turning to Diana. "Punishment must be meted out," he said. "Have you anything to say in your defense, Champion?"

Diana looked upon the Lord of Olympus. Where had his majesty gone? Once she would have been prostrated before him, alongside her mother, but now…the god, and all the Olympians no longer seemed so bright and powerful. They seemed petty and all too human.

"I freely acknowledge killing Ares," she said. "There is no defense against that." She held up a hand for quiet at the murmurs that began amongst her sisters. Until then, the rumor of Ares' death by her hands had been just that: rumor. Now it was fact. The Olympians were also muttering to each other. "However, I was performing my duties in my capacity as the Champion of Olympus. I took action that I felt was needed."

"How so?" Aphrodite asked. "And what happened to your nose? It ruins your beauty."

Diana smiled wryly. "Ares happened to my nose," she said. "Did you not see our battle?"

"I try to avoid such unpleasant things," the goddess of love said in an lofty and airy tone.

"Regardless, the nose will heal, and my looks will be as they once were," Diana said. "As for my actions, Ares allied with Darkseid. Their plan wasn't simply to conquer Themiscyra, but also to conquer Olympus. Themiscyra is the only remaining place on Earth from which one can reach the celestial city."

Zeus nodded his head. "That is the most likely scenario," he agreed. "My son was always a fool."

"So you claim you acted in our best interests," Athena said.

Diana nodded. "Yes. I was defending my life as well as my charge."

Aphrodite looked at the assembled League standing behind Diana. "And what of them," she said. "The winged woman's words were heard." She turned to Diana. "Do you agree with them?"

Diana hesitated, and in hesitating, knew that her fate was sealed. The gods would know that she was no longer devoted to them as their worshipper and devoted servant. She no longer felt certain of their divinity or even their worth as divine beings. Right now, she still served because she had taken an oath to do so, and Diana had always been and always would be a woman of her word.

Hera noticed her hesitation. "The fact that you equivocate is answer enough," she said, a sharp and vindictive expression on her face.

Zeus snarled. "You dare judge us?" he asked. "You rise too far above your station, Diana, once Champion of Olympus." Diana closed her eyes. He had said it. Her title was gone. She heard the gasps from her assembled sisters as well as the cry of horror from her mother. She flicked her eyes open again a moment later. Zeus was still speaking, his voice growing louder as his anger built. "You are not meant to judge us," Zeus said. "We are the gods of Olympus, and you will know that we are your gods." He loomed large, the other Olmypians coming to stand at his back. All of them glowered in fury at Diana, who suddenly felt very small. "Bend knee and accept your punishment," he commanded.

Diana moved to obey, but Shayera spoke just then. "Fuck. You," she carefully annunciated. "You heard my words from before? Good. I meant every word of it," she said. "You five stupid assholes aren't fit to lick Diana's shoes." She glared at the gods in contempt. "You're nothing but trumped up humans with some extra juice and powers. There's plenty like you in the universe. What makes you so special that people should bow down before you?"

"Shayera, you're not helping," Diana whispered.

Zeus looked at Hawkgirl in amusement. "Why am I special?" he asked, smiling at her. "I am special because I am the one who will re-unite you with the man you love." The smile left his face, and he looked at Shayera with bleak and uncompromising judgment. "Die, Shayera of Thanagar." He lifted a hand, and lightning came at his call, aimed straight for Hawkgirl.

Atom had already been moving, though, and he floated above Shayera, taking the lightning bolt meant for her. The energy cascaded through him, flickering around and then through him before dissipating. Atom burped. "That tickled," he said. He looked at the stunned Zeus in mild disapproval. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you."

Zeus looked apoplectic. "How dare you! You will know my wrath!"

"Maybe so," J'onn said. "But try to harm another of us, and you'll know ours."

"The League ain't in a playing mood," Wally said. He gestured to the sword of Ares, still scabbarded at Diana's hip. "If that thing could kill Ares, then it can kill the lot of you." It was now he who favored Zeus with a bleak and uncompromising judgment. "And I could take it from Diana and put all of you down before any of you could even blink."

Zeus glared at the assembled League. "You do not want us as your enemy," he said softly.

"And you don't want us as yours?" Kal said, coming to stand in front of Zeus. "You have judgment to make on Diana? Make it." He held up a warning finger. "If you say death, then it's your ass."

"Leave it be," Athena urged. "Fair Themiscyra has known enough despoilment on this day. Let us not wage another battle so soon on the last."

"It really would be such a bore to have to kill all of them," Aphrodite said, affecting a bored air. She glanced at her nails and polished them on her toga. She glanced at the League. "And we would. Never doubt that. We are gods, after all."

Kal smirked. "Yes, you think you are, don't you?" he said, before turning back to Zeus. "What's the punishment."

Zeus crossed his arms in front of him and turned to Hippolyta. "Another will have to win the honor of Champion of Olympus," he said. "Her gifts must be stripped from her. The bracelets, the sandals, and the lasso." He turned now to Diana. "Your immortality and all the other gifts we gave to you at your birth shall also be rescinded." He smiled harshly. "You will find life quite different without flight or strength."

"Leave her with beauty and wisdom," Aphrodite said. At Zeus' questioning look, she explained, "That way she will get to watch her beauty fade into ugliness and old age." She paused. "And she'll also be wise enough to recognize that she can longer be with the one she loves." She smiled vindictively at Diana. "You should have held a leash to your dogs. We might have just taken away your tools and your title."

Diana sighed. "No you wouldn't," she said.

Kal looked at Diana. "Are they worthy of judging you?"

"Regardless of how I might think of them right now, they are my gods. And it is in their prerogative to strip me of the gifts they gave to me."

Kal disagreed, but this wasn't his call. "As you wish, Diana." He stepped back.

It didn't take long, and Diana felt the change instantly. The vibrancy, the preternatural senses, the strength, the vivid awareness of life around her; all of it was gone.

When it was over, Zeus turned to Hippolyta. "Take care that you and yours don't offend us any further," he said. "Your immortality can be just as transient as your daughter's powers."

Hippolyta looked at him, boldness and determination in her posture. "Take my immortality," she said. "I will not live safe and secure on Themiscyra while my child withers and dies in the Patriarch's world."

Her request was met by gasps. This was a day that would not soon or ever be forgotten. Phillipus looked to the queen, as though Hippolyta was mad. "Are you sure, Majesty?" she asked.

"Mother, don't do this," Diana shouted.

"I cannot hear you, Diana," the queen said. "Your are no longer an Amazon. Again." Hippolyta turned to her oldest friend. "We have all of us lived too long," she said, sadly. "We were never meant for immortality. This blessing we received has kept us safe, but it has also kept us from growing and evolving and renewing ourselves through our children. Where are our children? Who will replace those who died today?" She shook her head and turned to face the Amazon nation. "All of you will have to make this decision separately," she said. "Our Council will have to guide us in how we recover." She looked at the sea of faces, some of them horrified; some proud; most confused. "In the Patriarch's world, they have technology that allows a woman to bear children without need for a man's seed to be sewn within her. Think on that: they who we scorned and mocked have developed the means to re-invigorate our people." She pointed to the League. "And think on the League who helped us in our darkest our; fought alongside us; and who suffered loss with us as well." She nodded to her people. "We have much to discuss in the coming days and weeks and months." She turned back to Zeus. "I am ready."

The Lord of Olympus stared Hippolyta in the face, understanding that certain ties when severed can forever separate a woman from those she worshipped. He was silent, also knowing that he could lose all the Amazons if he misspoke here.

It was done.

The League helped the cleanup of Themiscyra before departing a few days later. Diana, being banished, was forced to leave immediately. Kal took her to his parents' farm in Smallville. He didn't want her alone, and he was glad when his mother and father, and even Lex welcomed her with open arms.

The funeral for Hal Jordan took place a few days later.

A long week, beginning with Kal's near miraculous return to health, ended with the burial of one League member, and the loss of another due to capricious gods.

****

Bruce glanced at Shayera. Hawkgirl had insisted on staying on the rotation, saying that she needed something to take her mind of her grief. Monitor duty was as good as anything else. She'd been working non-stop since the battle of Themiscyra, and he had insisted that she take time off. Today, she was visiting him at Wayne Manor. He opened his mouth, prepared to say something, but then thought better of it.

Shayera looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Just spit it out, Bruce," she said.

"How?"  
She looked at him in irritation. Now wasn't the time for one of his indecipherable utterances. "How what?" she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"How is it that you are pregnant with Hal's child? Hal was human, and you're Thanagarian. The physiologies should make such a mating impossible."

Shayera glanced down and smiled as she stroked her own belly. No bump marred her taught abdomen, but that would soon change. She looked at Batman, unshed tears in her eyes.

Bruce swallowed hard and involuntary tears came to his own eyes. Dammit! Ever since he got stuck in Thistle's body, he seemed to have a constant state of waterworks. He'd blubbered like a baby when he found out Hal was dead. He'd cried just as hard when he found out Diana had to resign from the League. He was used to complete control his emotions, but this body kept betraying him. It kept tripping him up. He'd have to figure out what the deal was. It was very irritating.

"Still having trouble with parademon's body, I see," Shayera noted.

Bruce wiped away the tears. "Thistle's memories showed me how to keep Darkseid from commanding me, through his telepathic ties to his parademons, but the general made no mention of this emotionality that I'd be afflicted with."

Shayera smiled. "If any of the others were here, they'd tell you that you're learning how to be human. Ironic since you're not. Human that is."

Bruce grunted. "Being human is over-rated," he said. "Besides, it was only through complete control of everything within and without that I was effective at what I did."

"Was?"

"Am," Bruce amended.

Shayera looked at him. "You do realize that your new body is many times stronger and faster than your old, don't you? In fights, you'll be able to recover from any mistakes you make much more quickly than you ever could before." She shrugged. "Maybe that maniacal sense of control isn't quite as necessary now."

Bruce frowned. "Control and planning are who I am," he said.

"It doesn't always have to be that way, Bruce," she said. "You are allowed to smile." Shayera considered him. "Have you flown yet?" she asked.

Bruce frowned. "You mean with wings and everything?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Why not?"

Bruce didn't answer.

Shayera took his hand. "It's because the only form your body knows when it's flown is that of a parademon. It makes you feel ugly and inhuman, doesn't it?"

He looked at her, startled by her perceptiveness. "You know for a bug-eyed alien, you certainly seem to understand us well."

"I had a good teacher," she answered, a wistful smile on her face.

"You still haven't answered my question," Bruce said, wanting to direct the conversation away from himself. "How is it that you're pregnant?"

"The ring," Shayera answered. "Hal could do anything he wanted with the ring. All that was needed was his imagination and will." She shrugged. "Hal wanted us to have a child. A boy to begin with, and before you knew it, he had me knocked up."

Bruce was flabbergasted. "The ring?" he repeated, needlessly.

"Yes. The ring," Shayera said.

Bruce shook his head in disbelief. "And you know it's a boy?"

"Yes," she answered. She looked at her abdomen as though she could peer at the small baby growing inside her. "It's very strange, but suddenly, I find myself loving the color green." She looked up at Bruce. "I wonder if it has something to do with this?" She pulled a chain out from beneath her blouse. Hanging on the end of it was a green ring. Hal's ring.

Bruce's eyes widened. "Where did you get that?" he asked. "I thought it flew away."

Shayera shrugged. "It did, and then it came back." She held the ring out. "It won't stay on my finger, but whenever I throw it away, it always floats back to me," she said. "I wonder what that means?" she mused.

Bruce smiled. "Have you considered that it's waiting for Junior?" he asked.

It was Shayera's turn to be startled. "I hadn't," she said. "But it makes sense."

Bruce was shaking his head again. "I'm still having trouble getting my head around this," he said. "I never even thought that something like this would ever be possible. I never planned for this," he almost wailed.

"No one did," Shayera said. "There aren't that many Lanterns in the Corps to begin with, and few, if any, take on a spouse. Those that do have always been married to those within their own species."

"Until Hal."

Shayera flushed. "He and I were only engaged." She said looking down. Unaccountably, her hands knotted.

Bruce gently tilted her head up, forcing him to look at him. "You were married in your hearts," he said.

"No one else other than the League knew about us, though. Not even his parents. I couldn't even go to his funeral," she said, bitterly.

"Maybe now's the time to fill them in on their son's true calling," Bruce said. "They'll want to know that they have a grandchild." At Shayera's continued silence, he added, "I could go with you," he offered.

Shayera smiled. "I'd like that," she said. She stood and drew Bruce to his feet as well. "You'll have to do something else for me as well."

"What?"

"Come fly with me. You said the parademon generals are shapeshifters." She gestured to her own body. "Model yourself off of me so you don't have to look like that disgusting bat form they take." At Batman's wry smile, she quickly added, "Present bats excluded, of course."

Bruce smiled. "You're going to pester me about this until I cave, aren't you?"

"Probably." She looked at him, an earnest look on her face. "I don't feel right flying alone," she said. "I need someone up there with me."

Bruce gravely nodded his head. He studied her form, and after a few mis-steps, he had it. He transformed. "How do I look?" he asked.

Shayera smiled. "You look fine," she said.

"Being like this, maybe I should change my name to Hawkman," he said.

Shayera rolled her eyes. "Stick with what you know, Bruce" she said.

As they took to the air, Bruce asked her one final question. "Have you thought of any names?"

Shayera nodded. "Hal always liked the name John."

****

"Why did you bring me here, Kal?" Diana asked. For some reason, Kal had insisted that they visit their island home in the Caribbean. She rubbed her shoulders and saw goosebumps rise on her skin. While the island was in the tropics, the ocean breeze on the beach at night was cool. She wasn't used to being chilly.

She glanced at Kal, who walked silently be her side. She smiled sadly. He was still so beautiful. She wished she could be the right woman for him, but it wasn't to be. The Fates were never so kind. After their one night of overwhelming happiness, this was usually what the Fates had in store for mortals. It was a humbling reminder of the vagaries of life.

In this case, Diana was no longer his equal. He could never be with her; not as he had been that one special night. Now, he had to treat her like porcelain. She could tell it was so in his every movement, how delicately he needed to handle her. How careful not to hurt her. It was humiliating.

How had Lois been able to overlook such embarrassment for so many years? It made Diana sick to be so limited in what she could offer Kal now. Had that been Lois' secret? Had Lois simply been more selfish?

"I brought you here because I wanted to ask you something," Kal said.

"What's that?"

Instead of answering, he pulled out his vambraces, the legacy of the House of El; the ones that had once been of blue kryptonite and were now purple. "It took me a long time to understand why the color changed," he said. "But now I know."

Diana wasn't in the mood for riddles. She was tired and she was hungry and she was cold. And she hated being all of those things. For two thousand years, such prosaic things had never been a concern of hers. To suddenly be so much _less_ than she had once been stung anew with every small hurt and limitation that she came across. The ambrosia that she had been fed from the time she was an infant had made her much stronger and faster than normal humans, but it wasn't enough. She was used to being so much more.

The power wasn't what she hurt the most, though. That was reserved for Kal. She had to give him up. It was the reason she had agreed to come with him to the island. It would be there last time together here on this special place. He needed someone he could be with who wouldn't break if he had a bad dream and flung his arm out while in bed.

Kal took in Diana's silence. "Are you still an Amazon at heart?" he asked.

Diana looked at Kal in amazement. "How can you ask me that? You know I am."

"So, you still have your Amazonian physique and training?"

Diana rubbed her arms again. She really should have dressed in heavier clothes rather than this light, sleeveless dress. With bemused acknowledgment, she realized it was the same one that she had worn to the Kent's for Thanksgiving when she thought Kal was dead. "Kal, what's this about?"

"When your gods took your powers, they were using magic," Kal said. "I was watching very closely, and I was sure I'd seen something like that before. I talked it over with Fate, and we can do something very similar, but on a much smaller scale."

Diana tapped her foot impatiently. "Kal, my powers are gone, and they're not ever coming back. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we can move on and discuss what's really important."

"Your powers are gone, but that doesn't mean that this has to be the end for you. Or for us."

"Kal, you're speaking in riddles. Would you just spit it out."

Kal held up the vambraces. "The blue kryptonite doesn't cancel my powers. It absorbs them, along with most of my emotions," he said. "It turns out that the blue can only hold so much, though. When it's overloaded, it turns purple."

Diana shook her head and sighed. "And what exactly does this have to do with me?" she asked, her voice soft. She was trying very hard not to yell at him. Why couldn't he just get to the point.

"The blue is basically a storage battery and it turns purple when it's full," he said. "And like a battery, it can be discharged."

Diana blinked. "Discharged? Into what?"

"Into another person. That person would then have all the powers that were stored up within the vambraces."

"You're thinking of having them discharge into me," she said.

"We would be equal again," Kal said.

"Is it permanent?" Diana asked, trying to keep the desperate hope at bay.

"No. It would last about the same length of time it took to charge the blue. In this case about a year."

"Great," Diana said, suddenly deflated.

Kal went on as though he hadn't heard her loss of enthusiasm. "In fact, in a normal human, such a transference would probably kill them, but with you and your curious heritage, I think it would do something different."

"What's that?"

"The spell Zeus used is basically a lie. It's a spell of deception, but an order of power greater than what a human practitioner could come up with. It simply blocks your ability to access your powers, but they're still there. They're just hidden from you." He held up the vambraces. "I can't lie to myself, or forget anything about myself or my past. That's one of _my_ powers." He grimaced. "Or curses in some cases," he said. "But, that power of perfect memory of who I am and should be is just that: it's a power. If you were to wear the vambraces, you'd have that power also; of perfect memory. It should be able to break through Zeus' spell so _your_ powers are no longer hidden."

"And you think I need both."

Kal shrugged. "I want to make sure it's enough to get through the spell."

Diana reached for the vambraces. "What are we waiting for?"

Kal hesitated. "It may hurt," he warned.

"I can take pain."

"The emotions I stored up were one of being burned to death."

"Oh." Well, that wasn't very good was it? It didn't matter. She could take it. She had to. She didn't want to have to give up Kal; not like this; not when they'd been so close to true happiness. "Give me the vambraces," she said.

Kal handed them to her and watched as she put them on. "Look into them and let your mind go blank. That's all that's needed." He watched anxiously as her face went still. The vambraces began throbbing, waxing and waning in intensity. She gave a sharp cry that rose in pitch and volume until she was screaming. The vambraces continued to wax and wane, but now with each throb, the color was a little duller. The power was pouring into her.

It didn't take long; only about ten minutes, but they were the longest ten minutes Kal could ever recall. Diana had screamed in anguish the entire time. When it was over, she opened her eyes, and Kal couldn't remember seeing a more beautiful sight.

"Diana," he began hesitantly. "How do you feel?"

A broad grin came across her face. She jumped into his arms and kissed him, pulling him to her as tightly as she could. His ribs creaked in protest, and he kissed her back. "I'm perfect," she said, her lovely face inches from his. Her bright white smile was like electricity, and he had to kiss her again.

"Is it my strength or yours?" he asked a moment later.

"Mine," she said. "You were right. It took both vambraces to break through the spell." She wore a wicked smile. She stepped back and slapped him on his rear. "Tag. You're it," she yelled as she gleefully took to the skies. "And same rules as last time."

He grinned and chased her all the way to the Pacific, where the sun had yet to set. She teased him, but eventually, she let him catch her. Her arms were around his neck, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Are you sure it's just your own powers?" Kal asked.

"I'm sure. I drained both vambraces completely," Diana said, sighing. "I'm afraid I've got nothing left of you inside me."

He grinned evilly.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly Kal. I thought you were better able to control your lust than that," she said in mock disgust. That didn't stop her from kissing him, long and sweet and enough to buckle his knees.

****

So, that's the end of the story. Lot's of threads left open, I know, but then that's a lot like life. I hope that those of you who know a lot more about the DC Verse than I ever have (or will) won't be too annoyed or angry about the changes I made to some of those great characters. The truth is that I figured if I was going to muck with things, then I was _really _going to muck with things. BTW, please tell me someone caught that reference that Darkseid killed the Marvel Universe Apocalypse. I laughed out loud writing that; thinking it was pretty cool.

Also, a most grateful and sincere 'Thank you' to everyone who read this. It's an author's greatest hope that someone will enjoy reading the words he/she puts to paper, or in this case, computer.


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